


A Mall of Ice and Fire

by Nanners (nanjcsy)



Series: christmas thramsay [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Dark Comedy, Fat Shaming, Holidays, Mild Gore, Mild Thramsay, Multi, Shopping Malls, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/Nanners
Summary: A new mall opens just two weeks before Christmas in Westeros.Will this be like a Hallmark Holiday movie meets Mr. Bean On Holiday with a touch of Krampus and a dash of Black Christmas?Yes. No. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. Or Not.Happy Holidays!
Relationships: Barbery/Qyburn, Cersei Lannister/Sansa Stark, Domeric Bolton/Ramsay Bolton/Roose Bolton, Gregor Clegane & Sandor Clegane, Gregor Clegane/Septa Unella, Harold and Bob, Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Jojen Reed/Meera Reed/Bran Stark, Kevan Lannister/High Sparrow, Loras Tyrell & Margaery Tyrell, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy/Reek, Roose Bolton/Walda Frey
Series: christmas thramsay [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1473278
Comments: 340
Kudos: 19





	1. Fat Shaming Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Inspirational Songs I Listened To While I Wrote This:  
> Deck The Malls by Duck Logic Comedy  
> Wreck The Malls by Bob Rivers & Twisted Radio  
> 

Roose looked down his nose at his son and spoke with the same disdain he would use for a drunk homeless pervert.

"Where have you been? How dare you be late on our first day?"

Ramsay sniffed with a disdain that nearly matched his father's. In spite of their completely different looks, Ramsay's Bolton genes showed in nearly every mannerism and facial muscle movements. Slouching in defensive manner, an ugly smile destroyed any apologetic excuse he could offer. Ramsay ignored the twitching, greasy and too thin creature cowering behind him. Without any expression, Roose listened to Ramsay's voice get faster and faster, his eyes went from boring into Ramsay's, to watching his son's hands start to flex and flap about.

"I was trying to encourage the new Santa actors on their first day of work! It is quite a sight with all those elves and Santas shoved into that dressing room, all practicing laughing and singing stupid jingles. You should see Tyrion Lannister's face too, you can see how PISSED he is at his father. I mean, his father buys and makes this stupid mall, gives his lovely twins each their own stores. What does his little twisted jester son get? Why, let's have the midget in charge of all holiday promotions and whatever Tyrion can manage to drag in for interesting minor shit. That means the DWARF IS HIRING AND TRAINING ELVES TALLER THAN HIM, GET IT, DAD? GET THE JOKE THERE, WANT ME TO EXPLAIN IT OUT TO YOU?"

A thin white hand slapped hard across Ramsay's nearly manic face and the large toothed smile became a sneer. But the eyes cleared and as the imprint of Roose's hand filled in crimson, the boy's eyes focused on his father's with a near smoldering hatred and love. Roose grabbed his son's sharp chin and stepped close, so close that his shoe tips touched Ramsay's work boots.

"You aren't in uniform, you clearly forgot to take your medication and you are late for your first shift. I am disappointing in you but it's expected with you. You had sworn to me that having a pet of your own would help you with your condition. You promised to take your medication and use your emotional support and therapy pet as needed. He's not wearing his vest, he's unkept and stinks. You cannot bring him into my new pet store like that! Take him to get groomed and you will pay for it with your own money. We do not have time for you to wash him at home. Nails, hair, body, everything, I want you to turn that mutt into a proper prince of pet. How are you going to convince others to buy your animals if your own pets look so poorly? And at lunchtime, I expect to see you giving him a reasonable lunch at the food court. Hear me, boy? Good."

Roose tapped his foot impatiently as he watched Ramsay's face scrunch up as he stomped past him into the well lit large mall hallway. A quick snap of fingers had Theon leaping after Ramsay as if he were wearing a leash. He would be except Roose made Ramsay promise never to use the leash and collar in the workplace. Luckily, Roose had anticipated that his son would mess up, of course he would. Domeric wouldn't have been late or brought a messy pet to a pet store, of all places!

Sadly, Domeric has just finished college and wanted to open his own business. Roose didn't mind giving Domeric some money to open his own small portrait studio for children and pet photos. Tyrion instantly grabbed onto the young man and recruited him for extra pay to take all the holiday photos for the mall itself. Roose was so proud of Domeric going straight from college to opening a proper small business.

Roose had to threaten to take away Ramsay's car and offer to allow Ramsay to bring his pet to work. Ramsay had graduated high school two years ago and has not shown any sign of wanting to do anything. He just hung around with his loser buddies and they were just as aimless and shiftless. Roose has had it with all these young males eating his food and laying all around his furniture.

When Roose rented out the space in the mall he explained to them all things would change. Now that he was switching to owning a pet store, Roose will need employees and he would rather not hire strangers. So Ramsay, Damon and Alyn will work for him. And if they actually do their correct work during the correct amounts of time, he will pay them minimum wage.

Roose was already docking Ramsay's pay mentally as he turned to see Damon and Alyn attempting to set out the animals for display. As he went to instruct them on correct procedure with delicate animals, a throat cleared behind him. Sighing, Roose turned to see Tyrion Lannister fuming in the archway of the store.

"Mr. Bolton. Might I say, your son Dom is a pleasure to work with. Very wonderful and responsible young man. I will recommend him as much as possible. However, your son Ramsay is a problem. Does he have a condition we should be aware of or is the boy just a compulsive bully? Thanks to Ramsay, I lost several actors. Ramsay fat shamed four elderly men into tears and I have four elves that are threatening to see us for sexual harassment. Also, the person with him, he was a little too fragrant for a potentially crowded mall. If my sister or father get downwind of him, they will have a Clegane toss him in the dumpster."

Reassuring Tyrion that Theon was being groomed and Ramsay would be contained, Roose pretended not to hear the commotion behind him. Tyrion was polite enough to say nothing when a large parrot began to swear in Dothraki as a large tortoise made a very slow break for freedom past them.


	2. Charity Breeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another Santa Clause by Bob Rivers  
> Guilt For Christmas by Ray Stevens

Hodor was both terribly proud and incredibly nervous with the heavy responsibility of his new job. He would have run out several times if it weren't for his talent agent and life coach, better known as Bran and Rickon Stark. Even when that mean Ramsay came by with his evil laughing and that poor Theon that is so nervous he's stinking worse than usual. Hodor always felt bad for Theon. It was a strange tradition in Westeros for the richer families to take in foster children. When Hodor's mother passed away, Ned and Cat Stark only had two children and another on the way. Hodor was a very large teenager that was in the special needs classes at the public school. He barely could read or do math at all.

Ned and Cat were stoic, Robb and Sansa were small enough to shove wet hands into Hodor's face and he laughed. The house was HUGE like him and that made him laugh too. He was taken out of the frustrating school and he worked for the Starks. They gave him a small carriage house above the barn that contained cows, chickens, a goat and a really cranky rooster. Hodor got up very early every day and cared for all the animals. He took care of the barn and learned to take care of the landscaping as well. In exchange, he had some money, he had as much food as he wanted, a full bed, couch and television with cable all of his own. He ate with the family and sometimes he played with the kids. If they were going to the movies, the mall or having any kind of celebration, they always invited Hodor.

Theon's parents couldn't care for him when he was just a young boy and Robb begged for Ned to take him in. Cat had snapped right in front of everyone, even Hodor. He remembered her bitterly saying that she loved her children, liked Hodor very much and tolerated Jon but if Ned brought one more stray home, she was leaving.

Theon was always over the house playing with the older boys but he was always dirty and bruised up. Now it seemed like Theon would go to the adoption house but the Boltons decided to take him. But instead of giving Theon a person home, it seemed that they thought he was a pet instead of a little boy. Hodor always felt bad for the arrogant little boy turned into a trembling, stammering dirty dog. Hodor was so glad he ended up with a great family like the Starks. Hodor got older and Ned got him a tutor in a center that helped him graduate school. Ned says this will be "ESSENTIAL" when Hodor wants to learn a craft or get a job away from the home. Cat assured him that he has a forever home with them but everyone grows up, someday they will die like his parents did. It will be before Hodor and he NEEDS TO HAVE A PLAN. Ned tells all the kids this and they roll their eyes but Hodor nods solemnly. This was the very first time Hodor has ever HELD A JOB. When the Starks decided to use the mall lot for their pine trees this year, the Lannisters wanted it for the grand opening and beyond. They were paying top dollar for the farm's services, to stock up a small garden center, the tree lot seasonally, it would help them immensely. At first Hodor was only going to help in the tree section like Rickon, Arya and Bran but then Tyrion saw him. Hodor had shaken his head no at first and muttered Hodor, looking around nervously. This small man was persistent and a bit creepy, Hodor started to inspect the sky for a possible solution. Bran and Rickon came to the rescue but then they told their parents of it that night during dinnertime. Both Ned and Cat thought playing Santa might be a good start for a working Hodor. So Hodor let the boys guide him and he let them negotiate with Tyrion for him. All he had to do was dress in this uncomfortable itchy outfit and let kids sit on his lap. He had to nod at their requests, smile and say only half his name. "HO! HO! HO!" The boys also managed to secure jobs for themselves and Arya, getting them out of their parents boring, harder work. Ned stared at them and Cat rolled her eyes at suppertime. Then glared at each of her traitors until they squirmed. "So instead of helping your parents out with the very business that provided all of your comfortable lives, each of you would rather work elsewhere? Hodor is the only one who was asked to get a job out of our own work! Sansa going to work for Cersei makes sense, dating Joff and going to college next year for fashion. But Arya, Rickon and Bran, since when have you had the urge to be elves? Fine, I will allow it. But I am still going to expect you to help us out when you can! Robb and Jon will have to simply pick up the slack. I will ask Lysa if she and Robin can assist us and you can call Jory, Ned." Hodor was secretly thrilled to play Santa. His parents never gave him these celebrations, he never saw a party or present until the Starks. The tales of Santa, fairies, Easter rabbits bringing candy, they were all so wonderful. When Hodor was nearly eighteen he figured out that it was truly Cat and Ned bringing the presents. He cried for two days. It took a very long gentle discussion with Sansa and Rob who had just become old enough to figure it out to make it all okay again. Even after Hodor figured out the truth, he loved holidays, they seemed magic anyway. Colors, music, rich foods, parties, presents and it was all wonderful! Hodor loved to make presents for everyone. Cat and Ned kept saying that being Santa let him use his own money to buy gifts for everyone. He can buy the presents from the mall instead of making them. But they didn't understand that Hodor LIKES to make presents. The Starks give him money once a week and he uses some of it on things he really wants or needs. Hodor always has extra leftover and carefully puts it into the bank account Ned set up for him. He will just put these paychecks in that account. Arya helped him set up something called direct deposit on his account. She was always chiding Hodor for allowing her parents to do so much for him. But Hodor wasn't doing this job for the money, experience or even because he was bullied into it by a dwarf and three kids. He was truly doing it because he loved Christmas, the Santa Claus tales and he wanted to sit on that golden throne. He imagined they must have borrowed such a luxurious seat from the Lannister house! Hodor felt honored to sit upon it and did so with reverence. Unlike every other Santa actor, the outfit fit Hodor perfectly in every way. It was fated. So when Ramsay came over as all the Santa and Elves were trying on clothes and stammering over scripts, Hodor ignored him. Pycelle was the first to throw down the application and storm away. More left and Tyrion looked like he might cry. Davos had laughed and shrugged. The small man heaved a large sigh and nodded. "Very well. Our new Santa actors this season shall be Hodor and Davos. Our elves are Arya, Bran, Rickon and Shireen. Two elves to each Santa."


	3. If Wreaths Were Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt  
> Oh Come All Ye Faithful by Twisted Sister  
> I Really Don't Hate Christmas by Phineas and Ferb Holiday Favorites  
> 

"Gregor, did I remind Robert he was in charge of taking Tommen and Myrcella shopping and to see Santa?" "Yes." "Did I remind him that I will have you castrate him if he spends more time fucking my house staff and no time with his own children?" "Yes. Seven times." "Did I remember to remind the staff that I want Varys offered anything he needs while he designs our seasonal decorations?" "Yes. Yesterday and four times this morning." "Did you remember to tell Sandor how I want my front garden to look, did you give him that diagram I created for you? I want to return home and have it look like Martha Stewart had a cocaine fueled muse while walking past our house."

The craggy face in the bald imposing mountain seemed to move slightly and a rumble from Hades seemed to fill the air. "Yes. To every question. Yes. I reminded Mr. Payne to keep Robert on track. Mr. Payne will make sure the staff is generous to Varys but stays out of the way." Cersei handed her thin leather gloves, her Burberry shoulder bag to an eager paw and headed for the glass elevator with a tiny smirk on her face. The oversized grey suit on the gorilla sized man looked as if it might strain but never quite did. Gregor didn't look any less deadly in a suit holding expensive female designer items. Following behind the stylish blonde clad in first class aura, he looked like personal security. Cersei continued speaking, accustomed to not bothering to look at a servant she's speaking to. Gregor seemed accustomed to being treated this way.

"Varys said he will bring his own staff for decorating, they will take severe pains to avoid both Robert and my staff. Varys assured me they do their work and get the hell out, no words ever needed. Olenna couldn't recommend them highly enough. Varys uses deaf and mute workers, all trained personally by him. All of them are his fosters and very loyal." Cersei gave a tiny sleek sound of laughter and flashed a mischievous smile at Gregor as she handed him her coat. "Mr. Payne must be frustrated out of his mind, I'd figure. I mean, finally a group of others that can sign with him and they are sworn to complete silence. Pity."

The bells were deafening and Cersei held her ears, trying to avoid her delicate earrings. They cost her the price of a middle class SUV, at least that's what Robert complained when he saw them this morning. Crushed diamonds, rubies and a pearl created poinsettias on her ears which were Cersei's only nod to the holidays. Tapping a Versace Palazzo high heel boot toe, Cersei stared with wry amusement at the small church parade as it went by. Led by a thin tall balding man everyone referred to as the High Sparrow, a group of faces lit only by devotion. All dressed in grey or brown robes with so much blandness they would easily be ignored if not for the damned swinging bells.

A chosen few shook bells while the other carried either collection boxes or waved small banners while singing. They sang of mercy, light, love and joy in the most flat voices Cersei has ever heard. Even the unflappable Gregor is bothered by this cult disguised as a dour form of Christian group. One particular plain faced woman with the stoniest eyes and the firm build of a Spartan woman swung the bell with extra flair as she went past Cersei and Gregor. The only lyric word Unella sang out was "SHAME!" as the group passed them. The woman's eyes gave such a censuring and disgusted look that Gregor growled and Cersei sniffed with extreme disdain. Cersei allowed Gregor to shove the last few out of her way as she headed for the glass elevator.

A blonde handsome rich boy that didn't look right in the poorly designed brown robes tried to get in their way. Glaring at the accusing young man, Cersei put a soft finger on Gregor's wrist as the man moved towards Lancel, who was stage whispering to her. "How much did those earring cost you, cousin? Your entire outfit could feed a poor family for a year and you can't be bothered to even put a dime in the collection? Don't lie and tell me you gave to my father's charity collections either, I wouldn't believe it. Please, listen to me, what we had, it was special, right? It..it led me to this, to here, I wish you'd just listen to me, just hear me out...can't we get coffee?" Cersei waved her hand and Gregor pulled out a sleek rose cell phone. Thick fingers began to type rapidly while Cersei gave a sweet smile to her cousin.

"Honestly, Lancel? How many times can we discuss this? I truly appreciated our time together. It was a passionate, confusing but very brief time in our lives. It is over. I am very sorry that you are having trouble moving on. But you really _need_ to move on. You also need to move out of this nasty cult. Maybe consider moving far enough away from _ALL_ religious things and family for awhile. Clear your head, Lancel before someone has to do it for you." Gregor's grumble broke through whatever response Lancel had. "I've just texted Kevan, he's in his chapel. Won't take him long to get here, I'd get moving if I were you. Or would you like me to hold you here for your daddy? Are you ready to return to white clothes and a richer religion again? Nope, guess not. Huh, running does seem easier in those robes."

Cersei saw her uncle, resplendent and brilliant in a white three piece suit with a silk tie that held a diamond cross upon it. He was heading at a rather fast walk towards Lancel, who was near to a healthy sprint. He managed to hide just behind the Sparrow as his father started to charge into their parade. Leaving the chaos behind, Cersei and Gregor went into the glass elevator. Watching the robed swarm become smaller and even more insignificant as Cersei rose above them towards the rather glitzy second floor.

Qyburn gave a little wave to the couple as they stepped onto the second floor. He was on the step stool, determined to give a bit of decoration to his clinic. He and Barbary aren't very religious nor are they big on celebrations. However, Qyburn has always enjoyed the stories and warm colors of the winter holidays. So his arthritic yet steady pale hands deftly hung the homemade small wreath to decorate his clinic window. Barbary cackled from her desk at the little reception area. "Old man, I hope this doesn't mean you want me to buy decorations! We have had this discussion, buster. Not wasting our hard earned money on that bullshit. And did you really say last night that you wished you could be a mall Santa sometime? I certainly hope it was the Hot Toddy you drank making you sassy!"

"My love, you did indeed hear me right! I went to the burn center to do my usual yearly pro bono work and saw one! Another doctor dressed as Santa and oh, those little kids worshiped him! Even ones wracked in pain managed to writhe over to him, children that were dying opened their eyes and smiled at him! I just think it would be interesting to know how that felt!" Qyburn winked playfully but his eyes were far away. Snorting, the overly tanned skin creased alarmingly as Barbary's thin blood red Dracula inspired lips cracked into bleeding waxy half moons. This revealed werewolf yellow teeth stained with decades of nicotine and coffee. Watching Qyburn warm to her smile, Barbary shook her head, softening slightly as her leather nipples hardened, itching slightly against the rough material of her Maidenform.

"Oh, you! Fine! Have your fun, Doctor! They will probably make you remove that decoration and go with something sappy! They have no real regard for art, the rich just want things that are glitzy. Your wreath is original but its really not glitzy. If you want to be a Santa, fine by me. But I'm not going to be your elf and if you suggest it, I will NOT have my next colonoscopy WITHOUT anesthesia. I mean it!" Gasping, Qyburn looked hurt but then he grinned. Shrugging, he examined the wreath as he creakily came down the few steps. "OH GOSH! Look, one of the steps is near to broken. I need to buy a new one. I almost fell. Now, I really am proud of my art. Its not usual, I grant you that. But I am sure no one will be bothered by it. Now, do you mean it, I can be a Santa? Maybe Tyrion can use me for one shift? I don't want to miss any work here, of course!"

Cersei and Gregor stood silently in front of the clinic window, heads tilted. Studying every inch of the wreath before Gregor heaved a very deep sigh and Cersei spoke crisply. "Gregor, please tell Tyrion that father has ordered standard decorations for every window and door. He's in charge of it and I want it done immediately. Make sure this atrocity of Qyburn's goes away before father wanders the mall. I do believe today is the day of your true testing of being my personal assistant. I know you think I only fostered you and your brother so that you could protect me. But that's not true. Its how you can handle literally anything I toss at you. And your amazing loyalty. So please, impress me today while I impress my father!"

Gregor nodded and spoke with soft blunt honesty, his blue eyes scanning every feature of Cersie's face. "I never felt used. My brother and I are grateful that you took us in. Gave us a chance for a better life. I won't fail you, it's not even thinkable." He looked at her the same way the paraders were staring at that High Sparrow. The same look given to her uncle, she's seen it on employee's of her father's. Hell, even the brats give the retarded Santa that look and it always made Cersei so jealous! Gregor is giving her that look and it warms her like a fur coat of baby seals. Cersei headed towards her boutique wondering if her newest employee was settling in correctly. Her voice was full of sweet holiday chocolate with a tiny center of cyanide as she spoke.

"I do hope that Sansa was warmly welcomed by my lovely team. Surely, the girl has already set out my coffee and is already busy as a bee."


	4. Leaping Lords And Ladies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be Claus I Got High by Bob Rivers  
> What's This? by Nightmare Before Christmas

Very gently and slowly, Jojen inserted just the tip into Bran's eager lips while Meara pouted greedily for her turn. "Suck hard for me, baby." Jojen whispered and Bran reverently shut his eyes and pulled deep, his cheeks hollowing out. The twins gave him impressed, if somewhat reddened eyes. Meera announced it was her turn and stole the THC vape from the younger boy. Jojen watched Bran slowly release the plume of smoke and he patted the boy's messy hair.

"Now, if you get caught by anyone, you didn't get this from us or from my exalted store, Granola Grange. Hear me? Seventeen isn't old enough to even be vaping, even it was still legal! Sneak in and out the back way to smoke during work hours, yeah? Oh, shit, gotta open up. Meera, get the incense going! Enjoy being a magical slave to a fat bearded deity, my friend! Float on outta here. Meera! Did you set out the pumpkin granola? It's gonna go fast, so is the vanilla cranberry mix. Bran, float away!"

Except Bran floated directly out the back tunnel and promptly found himself lost. Unlike the gold and polished glass mall structure of the front, the hallways meant for employees were as plain and unwelcoming as possible. Urine yellow and poop brown paint created thick lines within the narrow cement poured walls and floor. A bland labyrinth of closed doors and sharp blind turns, muted sounds of stores turning on music, employees calling to each other as they arrive.

Bran slid to the floor and began to knock on a door that smelled delicious. "Help! I'm lost, late, stoned and starving!" The door opened and a tall heavyset boy with frizzy hair frowned. HotPie studied the slumped elf and reached behind a shelf, pulling out a large frosted snowman cookie. "A stoned elf. Just what the kiddies need. Get up, idiot. Why are you back here? Tyrion's been hollering like a maniac out there trying to find all his employees. You better float back to Santa's Workshop before you find yourself back to selling trees in the sleet!"

Bran reached out a languid hand for the cookie then allowed himself to be propelled through HotPie's eatery and shoved into the main mall. Blinking at the sudden dazzling light, Bran tried to get his bearings in the new surroundings. Taking two steps towards a direction that vaguely seems to be correct, Bran bit into the cookie. His mouth exploded with ginger, nutmeg and brown sugar molasses and nearly had an orgasm. Bran decided to lay on an elaborately scrolled bench to eat the cookie, maybe a little snooze before work.

Tyrion surely wouldn't mind.

Sansa took an extra minute to dash into the bathroom, careful to touch nothing, even though the bathroom was spotless. She peeked one last time at her own neatly done appearance before heading upstairs. There was no real reason to worry and Sansa was mostly excited, only the slightest bit nervous. This was a DREAM COME TRUE! Something Sansa has been saying for the past month. In fact, she has said it so much that the mere mention of it makes her family roll their eyes now.

However, how can anyone NOT understand how MIRACULOUS and KICK ASS this experience is really going to be for her? The first Christmas not spent stinking of pine trees, the first time she won't spend over a month sticky, covered in dirt and pine needles. Not cutting up her hands and getting thick fingertip calluses creating wreaths and decorations.

Sansa didn't study her ass off during partying times getting honor roll just to remain in her family's tree and farming business. No way. Waking up at four in the morning to milk cows was her past, not her future. Though to be honest, Sansa never has had to do the harder farm work except when someone was sick and she had to help out. Sansa's chores were contained to housework, collecting eggs and chasing around her siblings when they were little.

Since Sansa has entered her senior year of school, things started to change. Sansa lost the last of that baby fat and gained the eye of the richest boy in her social circle. She was accepted into one of the most touted fashion art schools next year and Sansa was still warm and fuzzy with the joy of it. The cheerleaders voted her to lead them, Sansa was also a shoo in for Prom Queen and she knew it. So did Joff.

Cersei had been so nice and gracious to allow Sansa work in her new boutique at the newly erected mall, she was thrilled. It was an honor! Sansa wasn't sure how much in love with Joff she was, he had a tendency to get a little mean but this proved it was all worth it! Sansa looked around the large shiny mall that her boyfriend's grandfather has made and she was properly awed by it.

It looked like Santa hired Las Vegas. Large globes of light hung everywhere, five fountains that had water that plumed to the second floor! Lights everywhere made the water spouts look multicolored. Mariah Carey, Micheal Buble and Amy Grant sang against each other in the air. Sansa took a deep breath of manufactured peppermint, wintergreen and smells of sweets from a bakery nearby.

Sansa was wearing her best creation, a sweater dress she made, making a chic version of the "ugly sweater" phenomenon. In the style of Louis Vuitton, keeping the color black, Sansa added tiny silver snowflakes. She was sure that Cersei would like it. Of course, Sansa has only seen Joff's mother during visits, never during professional work time. Sansa was confident that she can do the job. Cersei said it was mainly attending to whatever the other more experienced employees would need help with.

Cersei had explained to Sansa that she hired two very talented top scholars from the leading fashion university in the south. Sansa heard of the two most popular, lovely and fashionable twins in the south. A few years older, both known for their gentle and talent for artful fashion, Sansa couldn't wait to meet them and work with them. Just the thought of how much she can learn from all of them had Sansa beaming. She could barely keep herself from skipping towards the elevator.

During one of the long formal suppers at Joff's mansion, Sansa heard how Cersei taught at that same fashion college in between having her children. Cersei had sneered and said the ones she hired for this boutique all come trained from her own hand. Unable to deny that Sansa herself has hung out with mean girls and acted accordingly, she wasn't overtly worried about this attitude of Cersei's and Joff's. Her own parents were cold and stoic and Sansa knew they felt everyone should act like them. 

Sansa stepped onto the glass elevator and as it began to rise she could see Uncle Petyr smiling at her in his creepy way from the massage parlor he opened. A thin girl with a pretty face and sadistic eyes also watched her going up. Both of them gave her shivers and Sansa wondered at Petyr's offer to give her rides whenever she needed them to and from work. Uncle Petyr had always been around Sansa, he was friends with her mother before he became Aunt Lysa's husband.

None of Sansa's brothers liked Petyr and Arya only liked him as a victim for her pranks. Sansa has spent the most time with him, not because she trusted him but because she always felt she understood him. And that he understood her. Petyr was always being misunderstood, mistreated and misjudged. Just like Sansa. And Petyr always told her that there wasn't a thing wrong with that. If no one knew what she was thinking or capable of, Sansa always had a secret above others.

Petyr's advice and understanding of Sansa's feelings and thoughts was worth some creepy touches. But Sansa knew that he only married Aunt Lysa to keep his place in their lives. Sansa spent less time than ever with her uncle this busy year but it was also because he was becoming more pressing in his advances. Uncle Petyr has been discussing how Sansa will need a car, books and more for her time away at college and it's all so tempting.

A strange distraction that Sansa only started to see happened as she continued upwards. A huge Christmas tree that was in the center of the mall obscured what seemed to be a parade turned into a mosh. Sansa shuddered. Those strange religious cults were the only things creepier than Uncle Petyr. Sansa had been willing to allow Petyr's looks and touches if it meant gaining things. It has always been that way. But a car, books and a college allowance? That would be worth more than simple accidental peeks and a few stolen caresses.

There was no more time to think on her creepy uncle as Sansa stepped onto the luxurious marble second floor. Blinking a bit at the strange decoration on Qyburn's Dermatology and Beauty Labs. Hurrying past it, she was nearly at the black shiny walls with gold lines squirming through it, leading to clear glass windows and double doors with gold and crystal door handles. Cersei's name was scrawled in gold across the top right hand door, in her own handwriting.

Sansa worried at the clear elegance and her own appearance. Too late now. She hoped her homemade sandalwood perfume, thick sleek braid down her back and her simple sweater dress won't be too clashing. Swinging open the doors, Sansa's heel sank into the most elegant gold rug and she nearly fell forward into the gentle chimes of classical music. Trying to catch her balance, Sansa found the most well formed, graceful, manicured hands steadying her.

She looked up into a perfectly made male in his twenties. Sansa tried to remember how to breathe as she took in the utterly perfect hair, unreal white teeth, eyes that actually seem to twinkle. One well crafted eyebrow went up and Loras's heavenly molded lips parted and his dulcet tones came forth. "Poor dear, you got lost on your way to work, didn't you? Hmm, let's see. Judging by your clothes, you are trying to either get to Santa's Workshop or that little dollar store. First floor, honey."

Sansa managed to find her voice and ignored the heat now gracing her face. "Sorry for being so clumsy. Uh, no, I am working here, actually. My name is Sansa Stark. Perhaps Cersei mentioned me? You are Loras Tyrell, right? I have been following you and your sister on media, I have been such a huge fan. I begin at your school next fall and have the same majors. It's an honor to work here with all of you."

Loras dropped her hand as if were a piece of trash. His entire demeanor changed, back stiffened, tossing his head and his eyes shot her dead.

"Sweetie, if you wear outfits like this at our college, you will instantly be turned deaf by the resounding laughter. You are late. Don't bother to say that Cersei said be here fifteen minutes before opening. Fifteen minutes before opening is when you should be putting our drinks down. Here, take my card. Do you need to write this list down? Probably should, honey. Hurry up, oh forget it, you'll never find a pen in time. Use. Your. Phone. Why are you so frazzled now? Are you going to cry? You will never make it here if I already have you upset. Cersei is going to EAT you. Pull yourself together. Wipe your eyes fast and take a deep breath. Now take this card and RUN."


	5. Tree Toppers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All songs on this chapter by Bob Rivers:  
> Decorations  
> Who Put The Stump?

Tyrion raised his eyes high, higher and finally settled his own disbelieving eyes upon Gregor's impassive ones. "I don't care if the orders come from my father himself. I am telling you that I don't have time or resources to change decorations while we are about to open! I am missing an elf fifteen minutes to opening! My first shift Santa is falling apart with stage fright! I spent all month working on this decor set and if Cersei wants it changed, she'll have to do it herself. My father approved my designs and appointed me with this exalted shit position. Too late for Cersei to fuck it up worse."

Gregor raised his eyebrows as he stared around. Huge frosted globes held by thick gold chains wrapped with red ribbons with floppy bows and poinsettias that were large enough to cause a slight disturbance in nature. Every pole and railing was wrapped in glittery candy cane style garland, crystal snowflakes hung everywhere, most store windows had personal decorations. Any window that wasn't decorated by store owners got snowmen stickers slapped on the glass by a cranky Tyrion. That is what Tyrion was doing when Gregor came to bother him.

"Why don't you just take care of Qyburn's wreath yourself? I can't change the whole damned mall because Cersei doesn't want to hurt Qyburn's feelings. Or better yet, just let the wreath stay? Is it that bad?" Snorting, Gregor looked with careful disdain at a vacant smiling gingerbread man. "It took you a month to make this much of a mess? Damn. Have you seen what the good doctor has hung up? You might want to change your mind when you see it. And considering how long and hard Cersei worked to get Qyburn to open an office here, she can't afford to insult him by accident." Tyrion rolled his eyes and went past Gregor. "Sorry, I'm busy."

  
Gregor followed Tyrion and accidentally on purpose knocked over the ladder before Tyrion could get on it. "You want to go see that wreath. Find a way to get him to take it down or change all the decorations and do it that way. Now." Sighing, Tyrion crushed the delicate star in his hand and swore as it turned to dust. "I don't care if its a wreath of dildos, its still sounds like a YOU or a CERSEI problem, not mine. Unless you plan on making me destroy more decorations or helping me find my missing elf, please let me get back to work." Gregor considered tossing Tyrion up onto his own hanging decorations.

Arya was covered in glue and every movement sent up puffs of glitter. Trying to walk around in Sansa's old ballet slippers that their mother somehow turned into elf shoes, she counted at least two new blisters. Arya also was wearing an old pair of her sister's thick winter green tights. They itched, rode up her crotch and yet were baggy at her knees and ankles. The elf outfit was heavy, hot and itched as much as the tights, the hat kept sending a jingle ball into her left eye. Arya spent all morning helping set up decorations and constructing Santa's village for Hodor to sit.

Shireen and Rickon have been helping Hodor get ready and setting out candy canes and coloring books for all the children. Domeric was setting up his cameras and Tyrion was running around seeing to the last of things. Bran was nowhere to be seen but Arya had been with the Reeds earlier and was sure that was where Bran must be now. She texted him twice to remind him that high or not, he had work to do or he'd be sent back to the world of sap and trees. Peering up at a large ornate old fashioned clock near the toy store, Arya saw it was almost time for the mall to open.

Arya went to text him again when Tyrion hollered for her. "I have to deal with Gorilla, I mean Gregor. I broke the star, could you find an angel in this box and put it on the top of that tree? Get another ladder for it. If you see your brother Bran, tell him he is seconds from being replaced." Nodding, Arya skirted the giant glaring at Tyrion. Halfway to the gigantic tree that went straight up two floors and took her father and brothers a long time to cut and drag here, Arya saw Bran. Arya kicked the leg hanging off the bench. "Hey, stoner! Wake up, you jerk! Tyrion's ready to fire you! Get up, splash water on your face from the fountain and get to the workshop! Fix your elf suit, shake off all those crumbs! I have to hang this angel on the tree." 

Ramsay understood now why his father told him to expose his pet to light and social situations more. Ramsay was more than a little possessive of his things, he tended to guard them carefully from others. He kept Reek in the house, in the car, in the basement, in the yard or on a literal leash. Theon had a habit of bolting whenever he's startled or scared and Ramsay had a habit of reacting badly to it. Roose had insisted that Theon attend school as it was the law and Ramsay never allowed Theon to make friends or talk to anyone but Ramsay's own friends. Since graduating high school, Theon has rarely left the house except for short trips.

Reek was already panting and shivering in the bright lights, staring in horror at the bright dizzying decorations all over. He was ordered to always remain dirty and in the clothing his master has picked for him. Ramsay was proud of how firm Theon was that he must remain dirty, dressed in rags and called Reek. On the other hand, Ramsay needed him to dress and act like Theon and Reek wasn't having it. Ramsay had already had to keep a firm hand in his pet's chaotic greasy hair so he won't bolt or faint. "Hush, stop whining. Let's see if the pet groomers will fix you up. If not, we can hit the spa. Stop shaking your head at me, Reek. I say yes."

But Ramsay had not only forgotten his own medication but Reek's too. Theon Greyjoy had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder thanks to his abusive father and rotten crazy genes from his mother. At least that's what was explained to the Boltons when they fostered him. In order for Roose to allow Ramsay to keep his Reek, he had to follow certain rules. Reek was to be kept fed, hydrated and given his medication, taken to all doctor appointments needed. Ramsay also had to take his own medication and see his own rotten doctor.

Ramsay made sure that Theon showed to school somewhat clean. He made sure that Theon ate and drank enough to pass basic inspection and his father took care of the rest. Mainly it was always a matter of Roose giving orders to Ramsay, who make sure he and his pet followed. Except now that they were two years out of high school, Roose wants Ramsay to take care of himself and Reek alone. That means Ramsay has forgotten his own doctor appointments and medication, never mind Theon's. Which means Ramsay was at his worst right along with his pet and he was doing his damnedest to hide this from his father.

The only reason Ramsay was even doing this stupid job for his father was because he was still living at home and couldn't let independent and perfect Domeric show him up again. If Ramsay and his buddies didn't work for his father, Domeric would show up to save the day as he always did. Ramsay could not abide that. Ramsay had really meant to take better care of himself and Reek, he really did. But it was easy to forget and very hard to care about stupid health issues. Besides, without medication everything was more colorful, visceral and creative for Ramsay. And Reek is adorable when he's so confused and scared.

But Ramsay should have realized there was no way they could be in a mall like this without their medications. Reek was whining, cringing, clinging hard to Ramsay's shirt in terror. Ramsay went faster and Jeyne saw them coming from the dog grooming window. Standing fast, large eyes eating a tiny pale face, small hands grasping a clipboard as if it were a shield before her, she watched Ramsay yank his pet to her counter. "Jeyne! Merry Christmas! Reek needs a quick grooming, please." Jeyne sucked in her breath then regretted it, her eyes already watering.

"See? He really needs a bath. Come on, for old times sake! Did I mention how cute you look today, Jeynie? I don't remember why we stopped being so good together...and you never minded my pet, right? You always said he was sweet. That I should take better care of him. You used to love grooming Reek, remember?" Ramsay started to recall the fun times when Jeyne was part of their world and even Theon was leaning forward towards a familiar face and the memory of kind gentle hands. Jeyne shook her head fast and waved her hands palms up, dropping her clipboard before them. "My first clients are really important ones, Ramsay! Father is really sick in the hospital and without this grooming job, I will be homeless! I can't take the extra time, I am really sorry."

Ramsay leaned onto the counter and gave a winning smile, his eyes boring into hers. "Come on, sweetie. I was your prom date. We dated all through the last two years of high school." The pixie sized young woman gave a sideways grin and her eyes showed no fear or caution. Her voice purred. "Ram, you were the most unique and sadistic boyfriend I've ever had. It was heaven to you, sure. But it was a tiny bit of heaven with a lot of hell. Once you asked if I wanted to act out a hot movie scene and when I said yes, you and your boys acted out the first half of I Spit On Your Grave. You and Myranda gave me four different diseases. We only dated through high school because our dads wanted us to marry someday. Then my dad got sick and I didn't have any time. You forgot to ever call and I never cared."

Before Ramsay could retort with a threat to get Jeyne to comply, the main speakers came to life over the music. A deafening voice boomed out about this being a first opening and everyone should do their best to make a great impression. This voice inspired only Reek who shrieked at the startling sound and leaped so high that he left Ramsay holding only a clump of hair. Ramsay and Jeyne watched as Theon tore down the hallway then tried to stop before colliding into a flock of religious sparrows. Up until that moment, the group of two differing religious groups had only been arguing verbally. The robed man that Reek fell into was repulsed enough to shove into a pastel blue suited man. And that was all it took to start a holy rumble.

When the robes and suits started to fight, someone accidentally slapped Reek while another person screamed too close to him. This sent Reek skittering past the melee and up the gleaming staircase towards the higher class stores of the second floor. Ramsay and Jeyne were chasing after him as fast as possible, Ramsay taking the stairs, Jeyne flew up the opposite escalator to cut the panicking boy off. Reek had stopped upstairs near the clinic, hearing Ramsay call up to him. "Reek! It's okay, Master is coming. Breathe, just wait for me and breathe. Good boy, good job, you can do it." But Reek couldn't do it because he saw the wreath of horrors then noticed then living mummy inside the lab standing up, pointing at him.

Reek shrieked and leaped backwards only to encounter a very short man next to a mountain of angry looking flesh. The shorter man was recoiling from the sight of the wreath and the smell of Reek. "Good grief, Qyburn's insane! What kind of wreath is this? And why does this boy still smell and look this way?" Reek bolted past them only to see a charging Ramsay and panicked further. Running only to see Jeyne coming to corner him, Theon turned and jumped blindly. He heard Ramsay scream in a way he's never heard, like his heart was being ripped out. Jeyne cried out too but it was too late. Reek was already over the shiny banister and slamming into the immense mall Christmas tree top.

Arya had been half watching the holy battle below her as she climbed with the angel. She noticed that her totally baked brother was following her up the ladder. "Idiot! What are you doing? I said hold the ladder or go back to the workshop!" That's when a thin stinky angel suddenly flung itself over the balcony and landed ass first onto the top of the tree. Bran started to laugh and could barely hang on as he pointed. "OH FUCK ME! A DIRT ANGEL JUST FLEW DOWN FROM THE DUST GODS AND IMPALED IT'S ASS ON OUR TREE! MUST BE A SIGN TO YOU HOLY NUTCASES DOWN THERE!" The battle below churned and the tree rocked, causing the new live tree topper to scream in a horrific falsetto. Arya grabbed the tree as the ladder and Bran went down falling into the godly rioters.


	6. Prayers On High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What's It To Ya?" by Bob Rivers  
> Oh Come All Ye Faithful by Twisted Sister

Kevan Lannister had felt it was only proper that his chapel had the better lot with prime parking spaces reserved for their churchgoers. A well lit area of the parking lot where security was always on the watch. Perfect for the church ladies groups or when their youth groups might be wanting a small night of revelry. Their chapel boasted a ceiling of stained glass, velvet cushioned benches and a well lit stage with choir box and band stand. A DJ or live choir for every service but the ones mostly favored by the elderly that enjoy the more solemn tradition of the organ.

For the youth groups, Kevan has hired several religious modern bands of differing genres. Well, at least Kevan's right hand men have picked out the music, or had the youth leader do so. It pained Kevan to speak with the youth leader, not because she has done anything wrong. It's just that his beloved and estranged Lancel had been the youth leader for most of his teen years. Then Lancel fell to sins of the flesh, sex, drugs and drink, he flunked out of college and abandoned his faith and father. Even then Kevan forgave Lancel, tried several times to save him and was almost successful. Then Lancel was lured away by this nasty bird Sparrow cult.

Kevan was forced to cut Lancel out of his will before the cult figured out how to suck his wealth away. But that was the cult leader's angle and Kevan saw it too late. He used Kevan's own comforts and the graces of his church as a weapon. Lancel launched into willing poverty with his new filthy bird friends and their church nearest to the dumpsters didn't seem to bother any of them one bit. If anything they all seem to be very masochistic and Kevan kept fantasizing the hope of it all being just a really kinky art project or bdsm group. According to his top men, his trusted spiritual brothers, it was way worse than that. It was a proper guilt and poverty grassroots cult.

To his horror, he found reports of this group staging starvation protests, tying themselves in place against police around an abortion clinic. Several members have been arrested for violence, stalking and harassment. Kevan found himself cut off from his son, there was no way to see, call or text his son. Not even Harold and Bob could find a way around it. The very few times that he managed to get any form of message through, it was rejected. Tywin had no problem giving Kevan a chapel when his brother asked. He thought Kevan was crazy when he asked for his brother to offer a discounted rate space to the High Sparrow.

"It's the only way I get to see Lancel. There's no way the shabby priest will say no to such a place as this! Make it cheap and the worst area so he can feel he's still suffering. Please, for my son! It's the only way I can start to reach him is if I have a chance to run into him. And if Lancel thinks he can rub this in my face, he might get close enough to snatch!" Kevan never expected to reach Lancel so quickly but he reacted fast to the text from Gregor. He had read it and reacted even though they were sound checking for their first service at the opening of the mall.

And here might be a miracle from on high right on Kevan's opening day, no less! Here under the bright lights of the mall, the dingy parade that has started it's turn. Kevan saw Lancel and nothing else. He lost all dignified control in that moment and cursed his traitorous feet that thundered into the bland march. Lancel saw his father coming and bolted. When Kevan caught up, his son was nearly hiding behind the smug, thin and slightly smudged man. "Lancel! I just wish to speak with you! Can't you spare a quick moment for your father?" The cult leader gave a patronizing smile and held up his palms.

"Let it go, Reverend. Your son resides with us now. You are sharing a mall with us, nothing more. There is no reason for the two of you to have any contact. Lancel is an adult, this can be considered harassment." Kevan grabbed his walking stick harder and found himself waving it, then poking the crystal ball end that had a splinter that once lodged in Moses's toe into the High Sparrow's sparse chest. "Sir! You only have this particular mall location BECAUSE OF ME! Because I was hoping you would be intelligent enough to understand! I gave you a place to preach and pray, now give me a chance to speak with my son! Small price to pay for an entire church location, don't you think?" 

The infuriating man gave a smile worthy of Gandhi to Kevan and offered with spread hands, "We are grateful for your charitable donation and I will add you into my prayers. In fact, I will light a candle tonight for your entire flock, we are sure they could use it." Kevan snarled and gave another swirl and poke of the stick. "Don't attempt to spar with me, Elevated Pigeon. I can have you out of here before the end of day if I so choose! But you can be charged with kidnapping, coercion and brainwashing my child! Give him back, you twig with a bad comb-over! I could blow hard on you and break your clavicle! It isn't very charitable of me but I am considering shoving my walking stick up your narrow posterior!"

Harold and Bob, both wearing tailored suits that screamed lounge lizard have come forth. A path had easily formed through the robes, no one quite daring to tangle with them. The albino twins have taken on the eighties fashion in the worst of ways, including dying their hair and mustaches a rather startling brown. Mirrored glasses twinkled like weapons, blinding others as Harold and Bob went under the shiniest of hanging ornaments. Just as they made it to Kevan, Unella stepped into their way, glaring at them. Her frown was the happiest they've ever seen and her bell was held as a potential weapon. Other members of the better dressed church began to leak into the crowed, seeing their leader threatened by an entire detested cult.

"I should not have been distracted by my own sins. Shame on me for letting you get so close to the High Sparrow. No closer, gentlemen." Both twins gave a bright meaningless smile and cracked their knuckles. "As long as Kevan Lannister stands there, we stay here. If anything changes, we will adjust." Unella rang her bell at them and continued to be a statue that the two men stood over. All of them kept their main attention on the two mature men acting like children of god. The High Sparrow kept looking more merciful and saintly but his words didn't quite match the peace he kept assuring them that he wished for.

"I will wish you a good Christmas, Kevan. Along with your family and flock. Even though you flaunt your wealth and make threats instead of prayers. Lancel with be his new pure family for this blessed time of the year." Kevan folded both hands over the stick and swung it wide while smiling like a shark. His eyes still twinkled but they seemed like Santa and more Krampus. For one moment, the elderly lion looked like he might eat a bird. Then he took a deep breath and Kevan's smile grew wide and hungry. Spreading his arms out as if he were Willy Wonka welcoming them to a candy factory.

"You will pray for my family, you say? How nice of you. Why don't you take those meager prayers and pray for some bail when I finally expose you to the police as the fraud and cult leader that you are?" Snorting, the High Sparrow gave a small fatherly pat to Lancel behind him. "Lancel, he simply cannot see his own sins. Kevan, it was with in your care, home and your wealth that destroyed your son. You led him into sin, into his cousin's bed, you led him astray and left him there. You should be grateful we found him." Eyes bulging briefly, Kevan waved his cane high before nearly spearing the thin man through like a fish. He was thinking of it. "Lofty Wren, don't you ever dare pin me as my son's devil! I see the sins and depravity on you. If you molest, injure or murder my son, I will make sure that you and every one of your followers will experience true hell!"

A thin wasted hand shifted into Lancel's neck a certain way that was possessive and Kevan felt actual hackles appear on his back. "It is okay, young man. Do not engage with the sinner. He is your father and we cannot change that but you can walk away. We can have tea and discuss the hurt he keeps causing you. Kevan, you are no longer allowed to MANIPULATE or BUY this freshly innocent young man!" Kevan jumped in the way again, arms spread, cane shining brighter than the ornaments above. The High Sparrow sighed and snapped out, "Modern day Gandalf, please get out of the way. I am done with this." Kevan turned brick red and his chin went high, eyes became lasers primed to eradicate. "Excuse me? You discount Jim Jones, you false Moses! False prophet! Look what you've done to your own flock! I have read the reports, I have viewed clips! Charlatan! Call me a sinner? Strip my son of his friends, family and his very rights?"

Regardless of his extreme ire, Kevan never meant to actually physically interact with the man. In fact, he had no idea who or what caused the ruckus but when the fighting began, he lost control. It was probably that smug look or how the man tried to shield his son from him. All Kevan knew is he was suddenly attempting to use the High Sparrow as a walking stick warmer. For his own part, the thin holy bird did his damnedest to use a frail fist as a figurative beak and attempted to peck out Kevan's eyes. Failing this, the long fingers hooked into the regal nose and Kevan bellowed indignantly. The Sparrow began to screech as Kevan started a vigorous Charlie Chaplin routine up the narrow holy backside. Unella's bell gonged off key as she swung it hard, first into Harold's face, then into Bob's on it's arc back. The two men leaped and the three of them fell into the melee.

The fight knocked over one kiosk and might have done worse damage if it hadn't abruptly ended. A ladder and a stoned elf came smashing into robes and church clothes alike. The screams of someone stuck in the tree let Kevan know that this wasn't the end of the chaos. He tried to sound dignified as he called out for someone to call for an ambulance. But Kevan turned slightly red at the sight of Tywin glaring at him from the mezzanine.


	7. Little Drummers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heat Miser/Snow Miser by A Year Without Santa Claus  
> Little Dealer Boy by Willie Nelson & Stephen Colbert  
> The Stumpmaster Remix by Bob Rivers

Sansa had barely managed to get her order to HotPie and return with it before Cersei entered the boutique. Feet killing her from running, sweat sticking to her now hot dress, Sansa bitterly regretted her fashion choices. Setting the container of coffee upon a bakery napkin, Sansa turned to leave the office. Loras and Margeary pulled their own drinks out of the tray. Both had tiny smirks on their faces as Cersei entered the store without acknowledging any of them and entered her office. It took less than a minute before Cersei called out.

"Ho and Ho, please enter and bring the Little Drummer Girl with you."

Swallowing hard, Sansa followed as the glorious twins shared an anguished eye roll while turning to gracefully head for the office. Cersei was sitting in her custom made leather chair, her hands folded on the desk, her extravagant diamond wedding ring twinkled just before the still closed container of coffee. Seeing the container, the twins shared a glance and Sansa had a feeling she did something very wrong already. _As if the dress and shoes weren't bad enough?_ Taking a deep breath and bracing herself, Sansa steeled herself as Cersei looked the three before her desk with a very sweet smile just bursting with wicked words.

Cersei used the same nickname she always does for Sansa but her honeyed tones were not matching the ice in her gaze.

"Little Dove, I appreciate that you got my coffee into my office on time. However, perhaps you should have consulted with one of the Tweedle-Dums before completing your first job of the day. Both of them have held the same internship you are enjoying now. There are many hopefuls from my classes that are way more qualified than you, Little Dove, a mere high school student. Don't let them see you fail. Otherwise, when you get to the University, you'll already be finished before your parents pay the first semester." Sansa ignored the red in her face and ears, forcing herself to nod.

"Good girl. Now please pull up your calculator on your phone. Please add this up, are you ready?" Sansa saw the twins simper meanly at each other out of the corner of her eye as she fumbled out her phone. Sighing, Cersei waved an impatient hand at her.

"Please, this is opening day, darling. Steel your nerves and your rather moist seeming palms. If you think you might be prone to nervous sweating, please put gloves on before touching our merchandise, Little Dove. There, ready, are you? Excellent, we don't have all day, do we? Add ninety-three dollars and seven hundred together. The ninety dollars is the Christian Louboutin Velvet Matte that I wear on my lips. The six hundred is how much my latest lip injection cost. Do you wish me to smudge ninety dollars of lipstick upon a filthy plastic lid? To have my three hundred dollar filler split by the sharp opening of the lid?"

Sansa was speechless but Cersei was not."Also, have you considered the temperature of this coffee, Sansa? In my experience with lazy baristas, they tend to leave the coffee on until it can be considered legal mud. How hot might that be? I would almost believe you wish for me to get a blister on my perfect lips? Or perhaps a scalded tongue and throat? I do hope you aren't trying to sabotage your potential mother in law out of some petty feelings of insecurity, darling? I am worried for your mental state, sweet girl. No matter, you will fix my coffee situation and as for your...outfit, well, we shall try harder tomorrow, won't we, Little Dove?"

Giving a last pitying look to Sansa, Cersei sighed and crooked an elegant finger. "Love, you need to put my coffee in a mug and get me a paper straw after checking to make it just above room temperature." Sansa grabbed the offending container of coffee and fairly ran to find a mug and a straw. Cersei pointed towards her new shiny cabinet that contained a mug, shot glasses and a crystal decanter of wine. Sansa silently fixed the coffee while pretending not to watch Cersei turn onto the twins with a different but no less deadly attitude. Speaking with a heated familiarity, Cersei stood up and came around to sit cross legged on her desk.

"I'm sure you both enjoyed your little prank on the newbie. I would have been slightly amused if not for finding myself inconvenienced by your prank. Was it meant for me as well, perhaps? Is that the way you thank me for launching you both into the next step? Do you think you are irreplaceable? Your grandmother launched you into society. I am launching your careers. If you would like one, I suggest you grow up and act like you are working a real job." Cersei narrowed her eyes as she scanned every inch of the dapper Loras to the low cut cleavage and high cut ruffles of Margeary's dress.

"Margeary, I know you've been away in the deep Southern rays to visit your dearest ancient succubus who's manicure clotted claws hold your inheritance. Did the spas and tanning salons offer free lobotomies or did some handsome pool-boy perhaps fuck your senses away? Did you happen to grab that dress off the rack at Forever 21? Was there a homeless hooker that you felt so bad for that you bought her dress? Did you lose a bet, maybe? The next time you wish to show off that much of your cleavage, get breasts first. I'll be sure to ask Qyburn to give you a discount. Judging by the cavern I see in your dress, a two for the price for one deal."

Cersei noticed the slight flaring of amusement in Loras's nostrils and pounced with relish and vigor, her eyes turned almost loving in their sadism. "Loras, darling, I am really trying to understand what I'm seeing. Are you going to a funereal after work? It's our first day during the holiday season and you are dressed like it's our last day on earth. Do you intend to doom our sales from the start? Is this your way of trying to destroy me even as you live off my networking and knowledge like some bourgeois leech? Spend less time enjoying the pain of others and dress better as you've been taught to. None of you will be here long if this is what I must deal with everyday. Sansa has an excuse, she's a girl mired in a fashion free mud farm. The two of you have no such excuse!"

There might have been more if they didn't suddenly hear a resounding crash and see others running towards the first floor. 

Tyrion managed to fish through the chaos and find Bran Stark. The boy with red weepy eyes was cushioned by three robed men in odd angles and a kiosk of massaging pillows. He was laughing like a lunatic but his left pupil was blown far out of proportion, blood dripped from his nose and he couldn't seem to stand up. He kept trying until Tyrion pinned him down after calling for emergency services. Bran was laughing but tears streamed along with a thin trail of blood from an ear, alarming the hell out of Tyrion. "Hey, Bran, just stay still, okay? Qyburn is coming to see you until the ambulance gets here." Bran gave a weak grin to Tyrion.

"Man, I'm good. This herb is so good, I really flew...felt like I was way, way high, ya know? So stoned, my legs don't even work right, wow. Hey, Tyrion, oh shit, I told you I was stoned, am I gonna lose my job, man? I hate working with the fucking trees." Tyrion almost called the boy a terrible word but was saved from it by Qyburn showing up. Qyburn gave such a creepy lick to his lips that Bran seemed almost scared sober. He grabbed onto Tyrion's wrist. "Don't leave me! Am I dying? Don't let him use me for experiments! Don't give him my face! I've seen those movies!" Tyrion let loose his terrible word. Bran gave him a hurt look before passing out.

Even the screaming above them couldn't rouse Bran. Tyrion looked up and gasped then left Qyburn to care for Bran. "Looks like we are going to need more than one ambulance. Qyburn, get him stable then come help with whatever more first aid we need! Down here we have at least two that might need help and I just...I don't even know how to help...and of course, there's my father. Fuck me." Giving a look and shudder up at the tree, Qyburn gravely said, "You might wish to rephrase that." Tyrion nodded. "Good point." Groaning, both of them winced at the unintended pun.

Tyrion looked up to see his father on the mezzanine, his sister near the railing along with her employees. Sansa looked horrified as she hollered out, "Arya! Why are you hanging on the tree? What did you do to poor Theon and Bran? Why do you always have to ruin things?" Arya was pale and sweaty from the exertion of keeping herself from plummeting as well as trying to help the impaled man. "You vain, vapid bitch? What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to keep alive and keep the tree from disemboweling Theon! Why don't you be useful for once or just shut up?" Cersei sniffed and gloated at her little brother as he tried to run up an escalator.

Sansa ran down the same escalator which nearly knocked over the short man and caused Cersei to burst out with a wicked laugh. Her mouth snapped shut as her father switched his ire to his daughter. Tywin watched as both Sansa and Tyrion attempted to reach the angry elf but it was just too risky of a length. Gregor and Barbary both kept trying to reach Theon along with Ramsay. Theon was trying to stay still, to keep all weight on the branches that Arya below had guided his feet too. It was very hard for him not to panic. He knew, he felt the branch go inside his ass, right between his cheeks and UP.

It stung, itched, was lava, ice and numb all at once. The world had ribbons of grey that flowed through it and Reek wanted to sleep. Ramsay kept holding his hand, talking, crying, was Ramsay really crying over him? That was nice enough to make Reek forget things and he gave his Master a goofy smile. "I love you, Master." He felt Ramsay squeeze his hand almost to breaking. Did his Ramsay just say please? Please don't, please don't, don't what? How silly to give an unclear order, usually his Master spoke clear orders. Ramsay would always say if it was a game or give a clear order. Strange. Shit and blood were on his legs and he felt it, started to scream. Hurting his ears and throat. That terrible mummy was trying to eat him, or maybe the giant was going to eat him. Theon's grey ribbons strangled him.


	8. Decking Halls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas Can-Can by Straight No Chaser

Robert's head was throbbing in spite of each of his children acting as demented wise kings, each bringing him a gift. Joff was the first to enter, carrying a small bottle of oxycodone. The boy had a sadistic twist to his slanted lips which means he was hiding a smirk but he wisely kept his distance, tossing the bottle at his father while he ripped open the heavy velvet curtains. Bright yellow sun pierced Robert and he yelped, squirming like a dying vampire. He groaned when Joff began to boom out in an overly cheerful voice.

"GOOD MORNING, FATHER DEAREST! MOTHER ASKED ME TO REMIND YOU TO TAKE YOUR YELLOWING BLOATED CARCASS TO THE MALL WITH YOUR CHILDREN! BRING THE TOTS TO SEE SANTA CLAUSE! BRING ME TO THE STORES! YOU ARE TO VISIT MOTHER AND TAKE PICTURES FOR PRESS IF NEED BE! SO SHOWER AND DRESS LIKE A REAL FATHER AND HUSBAND WOULD! IN OTHER WORDS, DON'T WEAR YOUR LAWYER SUITS OR YOUR MISTRESS!" Joff managed to duck the heavy ashtray but choked on the ashes of several cigars and joints.

Robert managed to chew three of the bitter pills before his next visitor arrived. Myrcella could barely carry the heavy decanter of amber liquid but it was worth the trouble to help her father. Robert smiled at her and called her a very good girl. "Mommy said you will take us to the new mall, Daddy. I want to see where she works and I need to speak with Santa." Robert was two cups in before Tommen entered the room. He held a bottle of pink liquid antacid and a very hopeful smile. "Hi Daddy. We are all dressed and ready. Want me to turn on your shower for you? Did Myrcella tell you Mom said we have to get pictures with Santa?"

Once he managed to shower and dress, Robert staggered out of his room, putting on sunglasses. It didn't stop the expensive stained glass that his damned wife insisted on from piercing his brain. Putting a hand on the railing, he stabbed himself on pine cones spray painted gold and nearly catapulted down the stairs. The actual stairs were newly covered in silver carpet with glittery white snowflakes. "Someone put rubber mats on the damned carpet stairs before we kill ourselves! I'll fire whoever is ever so damned careless again! Hear me? Varys, I should've figured."

Robert stared aghast at the towering white tree with red velvet bows and blinking gold lights. Silver tinsel and glittery blue angels seemed to suck in extra light and toss it through the sunglasses. Holly, mistletoe, poinsettias that were unnaturally large and hungry looking hung in swaths everywhere. "I can't even imagine the bill you'll charge me for this atrocity. Don't bother to reply, just let us past." As they passed the insulted bald man, a ceramic gingerbread air freshener holder sprayed canned vanilla into Robert and Joff's faces. They left stinking of fake baked goods and Robert nearly poked his eye out on the gigantic wreaths on the double doors. 

The mall wasn't that far from their home but listening to his two youngest children sing carols off key was killing Robert. Having Joff continually point out every mistake the kids made wasn't helping. "You little fetus, it's not five shoulder wings, that doesn't even make any sense. It's five golden rings." "Both of you are so dumb. Why bother singing if you don't know the words? It's not later on we'll expire as we steam by the fire!" "You better watch out, you better not FRY, twit?" Robert wanted to cry at the thought of having to spend an entire holiday season with his kids.

Cersei insisted that one of them remain home during Christmastime for the kids. This was the first year it was Robert's turn since Joff was born, so he really didn't have a leg to stand on, lawyer or not. Frowning, Robert couldn't understand why the mall still didn't seem to be open in spite of the hour. His driver managed to go around the building and find a way to skirt past the emergency vehicles. "I love fire trucks!" Robert groaned and snapped, "Tommen, get your face off the glass. I am not spending all day waiting. We are staying in the car for ten minutes then we are going home."

While Robert leaned forward to instruct their driver, Joff opened the door and slipped out with his siblings. "Dammit, get back in here, you brats! Joff, don't you dare-I swear to God I'm going to finish pinching your turnip head right in the middle!" Robert had no choice and got out of the car, smoothing down his camel hair coat. The kids were far ahead and before Robert could follow them past the blacktop, media swamped him. They were sorely disappointed that Robert knew less than they did. Robert was learning there was some form of accident keeping them from opening the doors to the public from the reporters. 

He wondered why his wife didn't text him of this and that's when Robert remembered he forgot his phone. Giving a painful smile to the media, he started to skirt them after gesturing to his driver. Meryn left the car right where it was and muscled a path for Robert to the mall where he demanded entry for his boss. He stood like an angry silent squat self important mall cop while waiting for Robert to be let in. Microphones poked and questions were tossed but all of it bounced right off Meryn. Robert was furious that he had to wait for at least five minutes before someone finally opened the inner doors.

Blearily, Jojen stood against the locked door that Robert was pressed against. "Aww, sorry man but mall is still closed. Might not open at all today, kay? Might as well head up to the Valaryian Mall instead if you are in such a rush, buddy. Like, shit is going down in here, but spoilers, ya know? So, sorry, man. Who'd you say you were again?" Robert nearly ordered Meryn to use reporters as a battering ram when his daughter tiptoed up and opened one of the other doors. He managed to not only enter fast but sweep his loyal sweet daughter up just before the reporters tried to swarm in behind them. Jojen and Meryn managed to lock the door just in time. 

Not every reporter was interested in speaking with the fat rich lawyer, famous or not. Some were busy trying to pry information out of emergency workers but one kept a very sharp eye on the three children running into a labyrinth of outdoor alleyways. When they opened a plain brown door and entered it, someone slipped in behind them. The kids ran on, never noticing. With a sharp smile, Bronn kept to the shadows but his phone watched everything along with his own sharp eye. Bronn and Robert both saw body bags and bloody victims on stretchers. It caused Robert's headache to fade and his day to get better. With deaths and injuries, Tywin will need to use Robert's expertise. Chances are the mall won't be able to open until after the holidays now and either way, Robert gets out of the kids and gods willing, the actual holidays!

Bronn slumped a little even though this was a needed gem. He had promised Lollys that he wasn't going to work. But they needed the money and Bronn hasn't found much work recently. With two small children, Lollys had switch to part time until holiday vacation was over. Bronn knew presents weren't the most important thing but having his kids get a few things from their Santa list was most important to them. This footage of body bags and broken bodies will pay for Christmas gifts for all of them plus dinner. Bronn turned and slammed into a living wall. Gregor snarled down at him and it didn't sound like he was wishing Bronn a happy holiday.


	9. Rockin Around The Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Getting Sued By Santa Claus by Bill Engvall

Cersei had a brief aching sympathy as she watched Cat Stark run towards her limp broken son on the stretcher. With a detached air that rose after the wretched feelings dissipated, she noted that tragedy seemed to soften the rugged woman's face into a melancholy beauty. _If I could find a way to bottle that look, I would become the most famous woman in the world._ Seeing her father's black looks, Cersei was trying to remain out of his eye but she didn't want to miss any of this circus that will all be landing on Tyrion's head. It was _his_ fault that Cersei wasn't going to be showcasing all her hard work on time.

Gregor had sprung into action along with Qyburn, Barbary, Sansa, Tyrion as more employees appeared. Most did as Cersei and the Tyrells, silently observing. Only those who never worked for a Lannister before were recording it on their phones. A single glance from Tywin towards mall security staff took of any pictures or filming. Sansa and Rickon were there for Arya when the firemen were able to get her off the tree. It took longer and more workers to get Theon down. Ned and Cat were breathing down the ambulance workers necks as they stabilized Bran.

Ramsay made it harder for the workers to help Theon. He refused to let go of the limp young man even after they extracted him from the tree. It took the appearances of both Domeric and Roose to remove him. "Hey, stop howling like a wounded cow. You'll embarrass father in front of the Lannisters. Tywin is here watching. Come on, we can follow your pet to the hospital. Ram, let's go, trust me, you probably shouldn't speak to father right now. Let me help you. For Th...Reek. Okay? Good." Ramsay shuddered when Domeric touched his shoulder but it kept his angry father at bay. Plus being with Reek was of utmost importance.

Tywin was so displeased that his chin quivered slightly and he was looking down his sharp nose as if a king being accosted by muddy peasants. He moved like a nutcracker, a murderous marionette and his broad teeth gnashed loudly. Tyrion watched his wooden father march down the stairs. As the man went gnashing past three man sized plastic Nutcrackers, Tyrion had the worst urge to stick a nut between his father's teeth. Tyrion was nearly run over by Kevan and it was a bruising but miraculous thing. It allowed Tyrion to briefly escape his father's wrath as Tywin turned his ire upon his younger brother.

Ned stared helplessly at his children and then at Tyrion, who made the mistake of getting too close. "What happened? Why did you have teenagers in such a dangerous situation?" Tyrion stammered and paled. "Your children have climbed your trees and once even our mansion during a party! Why would I think Arya would be injured on a ladder? I NEVER told Bran to climb! I saw he was high as a kite and told him to go home! Instead he followed his sister up the ladder. I heard her tell him to get down and he ignored her. I am very sorry this happened, Ned. What's most important right now is Bran getting to the hospital and receiving help."

Cersei had finally made it downstairs, silently following the drama from a safe distance. Stifling a delighted smirk, watching her father verbally skin alive her pompous uncle, Cersei saw a reason for her to lose that smirk. As always, her husband appears at the worst of times. Just as Tywin was shoving past Kevan to make sure that Tyrion had appeased Ned, Robert appears. Cersei's husband and the Lannisters top LAWYER. Both Ned and Cat spotted Robert rushing towards them at the same time and shared a glance. This caused both Tywin and Tyrion to share a glance with Cersei. Tywin's look was smoldering and Tyrion's was infuriatingly smug.

Ned gave a harsh laugh. "I get it. It's not personal, I get it. The business over the employees. I can't believe I put my family into one of your latest projects. I should have remembered the sweatshops, the skirting legalities on those other places. I cannot believe that you were calling your lawyer while others were trying to still call an ambulance! Of course, they are going to take Bran and Theon out the back, must avoid any bad press. My wife will leave with my son but I shall wait right here for my own lawyer. Roose, I suggest you do the same. And Tywin, how are you explaining the three dead robed men? Oh my god, really? THEY WERE RIGHT HERE!"

Robert was impressed at how fast Harold and Bob worked while everyone was distracted. He thought it was an excellent touch when Kevan started to yell a prayer while Ned argued with Tywin. Kevan's chanting brought his own supporters voices forth and it brought the attention and ire of the injured Sparrow cult. That gave Harold and Bob a chance to shove robed dead men into body bags. Robert had to bite his lips to keep in sick laughter as he walked past. It looked like two eighties cosplayers were stuffing dead Jedi into bags. He shook his head, sighing. Pretending not to see any of it, Robert turned to see worse. Cersei, with blood in her eye.

Domeric kept Ramsay's arm but couldn't stop his mouth. "We'll sue you, Lannister! You fucking BET! Father, call Locke!" Ramsay couldn't believe it when his father slapped him to silence then whispered coldly. "Shut your mouth. This is your fault, you are lucky that I don't remove Theon from your care. At this rate, it looks like I won't have to worry about it. Go with your brother to the hospital and do not make a spectacle of yourself. I will deal with your latest mess. Call me if the doctor says the boy won't make it. I can ask the Starks to make me a pine box. No sense wasting money on a fancy coffin and at this rate, I think Ned will need alternate work."

An emergency worker rolled his eyes and muttered to Ramsay, "Calm down, Sir. As long as your buddy gets to the hospital fast, he can be fixed up. You can come with us in the ambulance." Domeric followed Ramsay and the stretcher. "Father, I will follow them in my car and will text you Theon's progress." Roose looked as if he could care less but his words to Tywin belied that. "I have fostered that boy so long he's as close as my own true sons. I agree with Ned, I should consult Locke since Robert's been hailed." Ned was texting his lawyer Jory while the High Sparrow and Unella were screaming about missing dead martyrs. 

Tywin glanced at his brother and two most problematic children with icy disgust. Out of the small throng of employees whispering together came Jaime. Rubbing his shaggy golden hair, he strode up yawning from an apparent nap. Staring around, Jaime arched a brow and drawled out, "Did I miss something? Are we late opening?" 


	10. Home For the Holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Money by Bob Rivers  
> The Season's Upon Us by Dropkick Murphy's  
> Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande

Tywin managed to stand before the angry Bolton and Stark with an air of authority. His brother whispered in his ear quickly and Tywin cleared his throat.

"My brother has a deep affiliation with an excellent hospital and the ambulances shall head there now. Regardless of what any intoxication tests might say, we are willing to pay all the medical expenses for the boys. We shall expect you to sign a contract after your lawyers approve it, of course." Ned agreed and Roose rolled his eyes. He turned to explain to Ned not to continue to be so trusting.

Cersei barely managed to keep herself from personally wiping the confused look off Robert's face. "Why are you in here? Those doors were locked for a reason? Where are the children? Oh god, did you leave the kids in the milling crowd with REPORTERS?" Robert wanted to wipe that snarl off Cersei's face as he huffed indignantly. "No, dear. I left them locked in the trunk." Cersei pinched Rob's side while giving him a loving smile and he returned it while removing her pincers from his flesh.

"Get your she-claws out of me. I probably have rabies now. When the car stopped, your eldest hell spawn decided to bolt and the other two followed him. I chased after them but got caught by reporters. Imagine my surprise that they knew more than I did. A text would have been nice. You KNEW I was bringing the kids. You TOLD me to bring the kids to shop, remember? I have a pocket just bursting with Santa lists and your personal notes on the subject. Don't you dare try to lay this on my door. No. Whatever bullshit happened is not my fault. But it's my job to clean it, right? Really wish I knew when I married you, I'd spend the rest of my life defending every deranged Lannister mess in some courtroom."

Cersei's eyes glowed, her frozen face was that of an avenging goddess. Her voice was that of Aphrodite offering herself. "If only I knew that the handsome muscled man climbing towards his own empire was a temporary mirage. Had I known that I would soon wake up next to a tsunami of hairy, sweaty flesh, stinking of alcohol and cheap perfume from your latest social disease. But since we don't have a time machine, I guess we should concentrate on our jobs. I'll gather the children for you." Robert stared at her eyes deeply and his voice was deadly. "How am I working and watching the children, Cersei?"

He was deflated, defeated, unerved by her response. Cersei's eyes filled with something close to orgasmic joy and then she threw her head back and gave a wicked laugh. Slowly her voice came forth like syrup as her twinkling eyes landed lovingly on Robert's. "Darling, I have waited for so long to say this to you. Robert, I don't know because I am already at work. I guess you'll have to figure it out. Why don't you ask the staff or one of your friends? Hire someone if you must. You know, just think of those same lame things you suggested to me for so many years." Robert looked like he might cry or murder his wife and was debating the matter. 

Tywin gave a scathing look to Tyrion and Jaime before turning to the couple fighting nearby. "Pardon me, I am very sorry to interrupt your sharing personal marriage issues in a public mall during a crisis. However, if you could spare us just a few moments of your time, I'd like it if you could both do your damned jobs. Protect the family, protect your jobs, yes? Excellent. Robert, perhaps you could assist us? Cersei, help your brothers gain control. I want the Sparrows calmed, this mess removed and cleaned, employees back to getting ready to receive customers. Once we've contained this, we are opening."

Ned gasped and the Sparrows began to protest. With an air of certainty, Ned took a step forward and called out, "Sansa, Arya and Rickon, let's go. Rob and Jon left to follow your mother to the hospital. We'll have to take your car, Sansa." Tywin gave a look to Tyrion, who instantly responded loudly, "Anyone who leaves beyond Ned and Roose will be terminated instantly. Only those who are injured or the direct relation of such may leave. We will need all our employees today." Roose tilted his head and coldly assessed Tyrion then Tywin before speaking. "Does this mean my sons have been fired?"

Tywin responded just as softly and chillingly. "Not as long as they return for their next shift and have signed any contracts we wish." Roose nodded. "That's what I thought. I will inform them and Locke." Ned was horrified when all of his children hesitated. "DID ANY OF YOU HEAR ME? DID YOU SEE YOUR BROTHER LAYING HERE BROKEN? ARE YOUR STUPID LITTLE JOBS HERE WORTH HIS LIFE? DID YOU SEE THEON? HOW ABOUT THE SUDDENLY MISSING BODIES? NONE OF THIS MATTERS TO YOU?" Only Robert noticed how Kevan, his flock and Gregor managed to begin to force the remaining upset robed cult members backwards and out of sight. Sighing deeply, he began to make text to his associates. There's going to be incredible clean up on this one, he just knew it.

Rickon was the first of the three red faced children to be brave enough to speak their truths to Ned. "Dad, we all saw that Bran was getting high. He's been doing it all the time with the Reeds and he was really high when he climbed up the ladder. He wasn't supposed to be up there and Arya TOLD him to get down. Why is that our fault? Why do we get punished for it?" Arya and Sansa exchanged glances as they stood together. "Father, we all worked really hard to get these jobs. And Sansa really, really can't just leave this one, you know that, right? So...we love Bran and you but, can't you just let us know how he's doing? We can meet you at the hospital right after our shifts?"

Sansa gave a gentle but reasonable smile to her shocked parent. "Father, please understand. I will go to school where Cersei teaches and her employees are graduating from, I can't leave this job then show to that school. And what help would we all be at the hospital? We aren't medical staff. Just a crowd in the way." Cersei and Tyrion gave approving nods to the children. Ned growled that he was calling Jory again and that it would be on them to explain this to their mother later. Sansa offered her father her car as an appeasement. "We will get a ride from someone here, don't worry. Uh, turn down the radio when you get in. And you might need to put some gas in there, it's kind of close to empty."

Ned said since he was apparently the only other one worried about Bran, he was going to meet Jory at the hospital. He was so upset about the children's actions, so terrified for his son, he wasn't paying attention. First he couldn't find the car, why couldn't he remember the damned car? It was an old car of Robb's, which means it was Cat's old car. How could he not know that Bran's problem with pot was so bad? He remembers that Cat always said she smelled it on him, was always with those Reeds and she knew rumors from around town. Finally, Ned found the car and when he sat down in the stupid car, he remembered why it was Cat's. It was like being stuck in a clown car.

Sansa had the seat so far up that his forehead was nearly against the window. He struggled to pull back enough to find the release button. Chin throbbing from being whacked by his knees. He fixed the seat while wondering if calling Cat was a good idea and winced at the leg cramps. Ned's thick hair wasn't stopping the roof of the car from pressing on his head. Swearing, he bumped into the window glass with his elbow then decided to open the window. Tendons in his elbow screamed as Ned fumbled about looking for the buttons to open the window. He laughed at himself when he saw the handle and started to roll it to let the glass down. His wrist joined his elbow's song of pain and Ned cursed more.

While he drove, Ned endured dried pink flowers and twinkling crystal hearts hanging from the rear view mirror whacking him merrily in the left eye. As he turned onto the highway, feeling like a giant shoved into a clown car, he fumbled a thumb around to turn on the radio, forgetting Sansa said to turn it down. Ned's eardrums wailed, his eyes twitched and he tried get the radio to turn down or shut off. Ariana Grande was relentless in her attack. She croon-shrieked her demands at Santa into Ned's ears.

Then the other thing he forgot happened. He managed to get the car to the side of the road just as it ran out of gas. A large fist shut off the radio and a few other things too. Raising a broken and bloody fist, Ned swore, "I will NOT give them presents, I will NOT reward this betrayal and I won't fix Sansa's damned clown car!" Sticking his fist in the snow near the car, hunching over, Ned continued to rant to himself. 


	11. Give Us Figgy Pudding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We Wish You Weren't Living With Us by Bob Rivers  
> Santa's Beard by They Might Be Giants

HotPie wisely fled back to his eatery before the metaphorical whip was cracked and order was brutally restored. He barely did more than sigh, blinking at the sight of a bloodied Bronn sitting at a booth. On the table was a broken cell phone and Bronn's nose seemed to have suffered a similar fate. In a rather nasally tone, Bronn asked for a cup of coffee. HotPie shook his head as he headed for the freshly brewed pot of coffee. "Not open yet. If you think I don't know a reporter when I see one..." Grunting, Bronn winced as he pulled out a tattered twenty and tossed it on the table. A pudgy hand slammed a full mug down as another hand made the money vanish.

"I will give you the coffee but I'm not talking to you. I see and hear nothing but my job, its how I survive. Twenty dollars gets you a coffee, that's it. Got it, buddy?" Bronn nodded and allowed the boy to naturally run his mouth. Bronn knew it wasn't much, after all any recording devices he had on him were all found and destroyed by that mutant giant. Thank goodness that giant wasn't overly blessed with brains and believed he'd knocked Bronn out cold. Bronn made sure to run off after Gregor walked away but before security had a chance to come by.

The coffee was amazing, the dark chocolate and shaved almond biscuit was delicious but the story of Bran, Theon and the large tree was truly a main course. Bronn slumped low in his seat as other employees came by and HotPie put his eyes onto his kitchen work. Both pretended not to see Cersei Lannister head for the Reeds with a scooter parade following her. The food court was empty and all workers within the small eateries remained silent, watching furtively. Only sounds were the important death knell click of Cersei's heels and the quiet vroom-vroom of the scooter wheels as they headed to the furthest end of the food court.

Cersei sniffed with amused revilement at the small hand printed sign of Granola Grange before she tore it down. "You won't be needing this anymore, Mr and Ms. Reed. You are both fired and this is all Lannister property, not yours. Read your contract, darlings. Only your personal effects shall be boxed by security for you. I truly hope nothing else is back there that can get you in trouble." The Reeds slowly backed away from the ice cold smile then bolted after grabbing their backpacks and a few other bags. Cersei continued to admire the glow of her nail polish as the two jumped the counter and flew past her.

The scooters began to chug at full speed after the fired stoners. Hearing the muffled laughter from several locations in the cafeteria area, Cersei turned to see the pathetic sight. Rast was in the lead, Meryn not far behind, the Reeds already out of sight. The mall children's train would possibly go faster than the security scooters. "Perhaps one or two of you could actually RUN after them? I feel that if I broke into a hearty stroll, I could fly past you. My father jogs quicker than that." Cersei groaned and headed towards HotPie's Eatery. The self titled bit of pink lettering on a wooden plank was slightly swaying on simple rope and thick delicious scents. 

Her eyes on her cell phone as she texted Tyrion to board up that eatery until they can refill it, perhaps it was Cersei's nose leading her? Cersei might be led by her stomach but she wasn't one to give in to a food urge. Not since she was pregnant with Myrcella has Cersei allowed her tastes to dictate what she consumes. Cersei looked up briefly to see the fat nervous boy and her eyes flicked to the sign, the coffee pot and back to the barista. "You made my coffee this morning? Just shake or nod, don't bother speaking. You look like you'd love to talk. Don't talk. I enjoyed it. I expect my coffee to be ready and waiting for my little intern, the redhead? I will supply her with an ample tip for your prompt service."

Bronn didn't dare move from under the table until he saw and heard the heels go away. Slithering up back into the booth, he commented, "I am grateful that you didn't rat me out to the Ice Queen. She would castrate me. Gregor would de-bone and skin me. That woman would wear me as a coat, if she could. We have a past. When I was a shiny new reporter and her marriage was new and already tarnished. That woman gives a great blowjob along with her best interviews. It was very casual and just because I missed showing up once so that I could play poker with Tyrion, bitch never forgave me the slight. You have no idea how savage or vengeful she can get! I owe you one, friend." HotPie gave a dreamy smile. "She likes my coffee! Her endorsement means way more to me than your favor right now."

Myranda smirked from the booth where she had been stealing napkins. She had been discreetly spying on Cersei and anyone else really that she could. Petyr paid well for information and rent was overdue. She was careful not to let Cersei see her since Robert has been a client of her for years. Myranda is a professional masseuse. She's also a professional dominatrix, among a few other titles. A few of the titles do edge into the illegal but Myranda doesn't like to spar with specifics. Petyr has an eye for the right clients and locations and Myranda has found that she's always been safer and made more money working under his tutelage. He was very discreet about their work. If a random customer or a female client entered they received exactly what they expect to.

Petyr's wife Lysa was fond of showing up unexpected with her son to visit. She would bring some food or little useless or deliberately insulting presents for the staff or ask for a foot massage. Any reason to check up on the staff and burst into Petyr's office. Only the Lannisters and actual clients would know the store has two separate sections with a hidden door. The back of the mall near the food court is the entrance for the back of the massage parlor. Down a narrow flight of stairs and into a smaller section. Small windowless rooms with nothing but a cot, hand lotion and a happy ending. The public entrance to the spa is downstairs near the lobby and it's normal in every aspect. Each area of the spa is glitzy, private and very above the board.

Recently Myranda has dealt with health issues that is effecting her job. In spite of her looks, talents and the greedy joy and erotic power, Myranda must find a different field of work soon. According to the doctors, Myranda has carpal tunnel syndrome and TMJ syndrome. Her hands and jaw are unable to work properly without severe pain. This was weighing heavily upon her since Petyr has already argued with her about her asked for lesser hours than everyone else. She explained about her health problems and the medical bills, the pain. Petyr responded by smoothly explaining that she should have come to him sooner. He said that Myranda was a favorite of his, he hated to see her in pain, he could fix it.

Now Myranda was starting to gain an addiction to codeine tablets and get lockjaw. The second hand brace that Petyr got for her hands and the cheap drugstore mouth retainer didn't fit right or help at all. She was getting desperate and changing direction, in a burst of impulse, Myranda headed for Bronn. HotPie said nothing but silently watched the two leave the food court by a side door. Still warmed that Cersei spoke to him and planned to only drink his coffee, he daydreamed while cleaning the booth. Maybe Cersei would endorse him, let him have a commercial eventually? Daydreaming, HotPie forgot about the reporter and the girl. It was filed away that the scruffy reporter owes him a favor.

When Petyr seemed to just appear before HotPie, he smiled widely in spite of always being creeped out by this man. The eyes brought HotPie almost back to awareness. "Have you seen Myranda? A thin girl, long brown hair?" Petyr itched to choke the red neck, watch the eyes bulge out but he tapped on the counter. Impatiently each of his fingers slammed down as he watched the idiot ride on that Cersei magic. Petyr had been hiding in an alcove, hearing the drama unfold but he couldn't see into the cafeteria area without being seen. So Petyr had waited, listening avidly while Cersei was in the cafeteria. He swore he heard Bronn afterwards and he KNEW the sound of Myranda slithering around, not to mention the soft sultry tones of that viperous little whore.

It was clear that fucking Robert Baratheon and being the highest earner with the least hours was going to Myranda's head. Petyr heard her ridiculous request for health care and a change in her work. He solved it, didn't he? If his whore just ran off with a loose mouth and legs to a reporter like Bronn, Petyr was going to give Myranda a much bigger reason for health insurance. HotPie finally seemed to register the tapping. "Oh, sorry, uh...the girl went with that guy. Don't know names yet, sorry. That way, that side door over there." He gave the man only the exact information he could get from a camera in the court ceiling. The old guy looked like a cardboard cut out of a villain and even if he wore a priest suit, HotPie wouldn't trust him.

"Sorry I can't be of more assistance. Want some coffee or a fresh baked pastry? On the house for opening day." Petyr shook his head fast and snarled, "I pay for prompt discreet information. I give nothing for daydreaming and vague responses."


	12. O Christmas Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer by Elmo & Patsy

A perfect white hand with amazingly well done pearl glitter nails lightly patted Sansa's shoulder. It gave a vague whiff of some scent that reminded Sansa of vanilla and peaches. "You made the right choice, Sansa. Concentrate on your work and remain silent, loyal. That's exactly how you work for the the Lannisters. I imagine that dating Joff is quite similar in rules." Peeking over at Margeary's eyes to see if she was teasing or taunting and relaxing at the friendly smile, Sansa returned it. Nodding, Sansa confessed, "Yes. Being around the family long enough, I can assure you it is the case." 

Loras gave a fake cough. "Uh, speaking of the family, here comes your beloved now, darling. I guess we can just consider this your break time taken early? Because we certainly cannot tell mommy's boy to fuck off now, can we?" To her horror, Sansa found herself muffling a giggle along with Margeary at Loras's tiny muttered tantrum. "Ignore him. Loras, I mean, not Joff. I will keep my brother from muttering in Joff's earshot if I stuff some of those new silk stockings in his mouth." Sansa was still smiling at the fancy man's dramatic little pout as Joff came strutting in, bored and full of self importance. 

"Hey, Sansa, I left something in your car behind your seat. I'll grab it later on. Stole it from my father and he'd murder me if he caught me with it. I'll grab it tonight." Sansa grabbed onto Joff's arm slightly harder than she intended and he slapped her hand away sharply. "Hey, are you trying to wrinkle my shirt? Use your brain instead of your beauty, I mean at least try." Sansa tried so hard for a calm tone. "Sorry, Joff. I was just...what was it? Because my father took my car to get to the hospital!" Joff gave a piggish sort of snort laugh and joyfully announced, "Then you really better hope he doesn't get pulled over. It's dad's magic dust powder."

Jory smoothly turned onto the curve. Seeing Sansa's car, he smoothly pulled in right behind the blue voltswagon beetle. Ned rolled down the window, leaned out merrily hollering. "I hope you brought me a coffee!" Jory laughed at the sight of Ned crammed inside the car and he made a parody of bending down to talk. "How did you even get in there? Worse, how can you force your oldest daughter into this little thing?" Ned grinned as he took the coffee and jerked his head. "Help me get out of this. Then I can unfold myself and kick your ass for you." Jory started to help Ned out when the truck swung silently out of nowhere like a vengeful steel nightmare.

Ned died fast, still cursing and swearing to give the car to charity. The trailer had swung wild and hard into the tiny car like swatting an insect. Ned crumpled like an origami crushed by a toy car held by a very angry child. The tiny car was smashed into a ditch, against the large oak tree that had resided there. It was dented from so many cars smashing into it. That tree had metal, fragments of bone and has tasted blood so many times but this was a new first. Ned was not among one of the trees trophies but he would become one of it's gruesome legends. He was smashed, folded and embedded into the car which was smashed into the tree bark. 

Jory wasn't as lucky. He turned to see a truck grille coming too fast, too close. The horror of it all made him piss himself just before the impact and he thought of Aztecs. _Those strange patterns they would make on tan clay except they weren't this horrific but it was godly, it was deadly and it was horror, pain. **PAIN, HOT** **SEARING**. Didn't they sacrifice humans, it was dark, pain was **HOT SEARING ETERNITYFEARPAIN** Flesh on asphalt until it grated to bone, flesh hitting hot hard dirty underneath of god-Aztec-sacrifice- **PAINPAINPAINPAINPA**_


	13. Blue Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Text Me Merry Christmas by Straight No Chaser and Kristen Bell  
> You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch by Allan Sherman

Cat Stark sat between Robb and Jon in a private hospital waiting room. Robb held one of his mother's hands tightly but Jon dared no such thing. The fact that Cat allowed Jon to sit so close to her was a miracle. It showed just how upset and adrift Cat felt. She wrung her son's hand then decided to manhandle a tissue instead. "How many more tests before they talk to us? What are the doctors seeing? He was awake, Bran was awake and talking to me, I swear it!"

Robb patted her shoulder. "Mother, calm yourself, you need to be strong for Bran. I'm sure they are just extra careful." Jon was doubtful but said nothing wisely. Cat snapped at Jon. "Did you remember to lock the lot before you left?" Jon nodded. "Yes, Ma'am." A sharp nod was all Jon received but he dropped his eyes. Jon worried for Bran as much as they did but he knew Cat couldn't stand to hear Jon speak of Bran like a little brother.

Jon texted his father again and Cat looked at him again sharply. "Why aren't they responding to your texts? Even if Ned was too busy to speak, Jory would always call us back." Robb tsk'd at his mother in such a condescending way that Cat almost struck him. "I am sure they have their reasons. Why don't you concentrate on Bran and leave the rest up to others?"

Jon flinched and moved away as Cat began to grow taller, wider as she stood. Cat wasn't a very tall woman, a thin delicate seeming middle aged woman. But she was looking more like a predator bird every second as she loomed over her eldest and favorite child. Her voice was tight, it was plain and it was strong. "Robb, you want to remember that you are the child and I am the parent or else you'll find yourself waiting in the parking lot."

The voice was acidic and bitter enough for both men to flinch. "Rob, you want to shut your mouth before I am forced to rely on Jon until your father gets here. Don't put myself or Jon through such an awkward thing, please. Jon, I want Ned or Jory here or speaking to me on the phone. See to it. Robb, find out when a doctor will be out to see me. Now, son, thank you."

Both young men hurried out of the small waiting room into the main hospital to do Cat's bidding as always. The tight feeling in her breasts, a ghost of a time when she was full of milk and love for a tiny creature named Bran. She almost gave birth right in the tree yard but luckily Ned was with her. Cat remembers laying on Ned's lap, breaking two of his fingers during a contraction. The ambulance came in time for Cat to give birth in it.

A doctor came in with Rob rushing on his heels. "Mrs. Stark? We are sorry to inform you that Bran slipped into a coma during our testing. There is a small injury to his brain and his body is doing its best to heal it. Also, both Bran's hips and legs were shattered. It will take some time for them to heal and to be honest, he might never walk again." Cat kept her composure and didn't lose it even when she saw Bran laying so still and unresponsive.

Jon entered the room and before Robb could tell him the good news, Cat inhaled sharply. All it took was to see the dramatic hurt upon Jon's stunned face and she knew her husband was dead. The pain was worse than labor pain, it was sudden then it sunk deep and permanent. _I can't live with it, I'll die if I have to feel this._ Cat willed herself into ice, she could nearly see crystal snow form across her skin then it sunk into her body, numbing her.

Slowly she sunk into a chair next to Bran and stared at his slack face. "Jory too? Very well. Have the police find me here, Robb. Only family gets in otherwise, Robb. I expect our privacy to be protected. Jon, take this card, call this number on it. Tell Petyr that I need his assistance. Tell him to find me the kind of lawyer I'll need against Lannisters." Jon felt Petyr was creepy as hell and couldn't understand but he obeyed. 

Domeric was pulling his eyelashes out to combat the stress of being near Ramsay and his Reek. First Ramsay stole actual body bags while Theon was being examined. When Theon went into surgery, Ramsay refused to wait in a waiting room or at home. Instead he wandered the hallways, pick pocketing doctors and nurses. Domeric went to buy them coffee and returned to find his brother gone.

By the time he caught up to Ramsay, the infuriating boy was dressed as a surgeon and was trying to sneak into the operating room to check on Theon. Sadly, Ramsay ended up in the wrong room, participating in the colonoscopy of Craster. Domeric laughed until his stomach hurt and decided it was punishment enough. Ramsay managed to run into Theon in the recovery room as he was wheeling a farting Craster in. He abandoned the old man.

Theon woke up to his Master gently stroking his head and a gentle but commanding voice stabbing deep into his mind. "My poor boy was hurt. Stay still and just relax, you've had surgery. I'm here to take care of you and get you home as soon as I can. I will even let you sleep in my bed until you are better. Foolish doggie, what made you panic so badly?" Theon didn't dare be honest and point at his Master. He just leaned into Ramsay's touch.

Domeric caught up to them again once Theon was given a private room. He was ruffling paperwork and muttering. "Okay, once Theon is able to stand and walk, they will release him. So, we can stop and pick up the medications on our way home, I have his follow up appointment dates all straight and I'll put them on the calendar. I have the instructions for your..uh..daily care in your..well, you know. I won't leave you to my crazed brother."

Ramsay glared up at his older brother and snuggled closer to his pet. "Dom, I know how to care for my Reek. You don't need to do anything but drive us home, okay? I can get rides from you and shit, but I can care for my own boy." Domeric opened his mouth to retort but a far smoother and softer voice cut through. "Do you know how to care for him, son? Most pets aren't kept from light, tortured and ultimately, found impaled on a mall tree."

Roose glared down his nose at his youngest son. "How disappointed I am in you, Ramsay. Your brother is right. I am putting Domeric in charge of Theon's well being while he heals from his injuries. You and I are going to have a long talk later, young man." Roose leaned over his son, causing Reek to burrow deeper under the covers. Ramsay paled but kept his father's gaze. "Fine. I love to listen and gain the knowledge of your blood soaked tales."

Ramsay looked terrified but resolute in some wild crazed way. Roose spoke nearly in a whisper as his nose nearly touched his son's. "You are very lucky that I am busy right now. Domeric will care for the fosterling and you are heading back to the mall. Lannister plans to reopen tomorrow morning. I want you to get the best tree from Stark's lot and set it up with the other mall workers. You are to be helpful and do as the Lannisters tell you."

Oh, how Ramsay wanted to argue with his father but the black eyes and the gentle tone warned him against it. Pouting, Ramsay nodded. Roose left the room and headed toward Bran's room. Seeing Jon ahead, leaning against the nurses station, texting frantically. Rob nearly ran him down on his way down the hall. "Forget it, Mr. Bolton! My mother is grieving, she's trying to be with her son." Roose gave Rob a sympathetic look.

"How is your brother, Rob? Poor Theon injured himself enough that it will be months before he's fully healed. That however is nothing considering that fall young Bran took. I'll never forget the sight of that broken boy, crushed down. It was like watching a dream shatter." Rob sucked in his breath but pushed past the man and kept going. Roose continued towards Bran's room. Jon saw him and tried to leap in front of him.

"Mr. Bolton! I'm sorry, Sir, but Cat isn't available. She's with her son and grieving her husband. I'm sure you understand." Roose gave a tiny smirk and nodded gracefully. His hands folding in front of his stomach, Roose's eyes bore through Jon politely and his voice dripped with a vague sarcastic kindness. "Of course I understand. Cat must be bowed with the responsibility of so many children, a business, harnessed into duty. Alone."

"How strange that she leaves her oldest sons out here away from her and your injured brother? Ah, that is right, my apologies, Jon. I forgot that you weren't hers and even her favorite Rob isn't afforded more than a slither of Cat's heart. Ned was that woman's world, since I can remember. I was there for most of their marriage. Cat shouldn't be alone and it needs to be her equal or better for her to be eased. Did you even remember to call her sister?" 

Sighing in clear disappointment, Roose put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Its a good thing that I was able to get here when I did." Jon nearly made a sound of disgust as he wrenched away from the chilling man. Roose used that moment to slip past the young man and open the hospital door.


	14. Busy Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck Christmas by Eric Idle

HotPie, Shireen, Arya, Rickon and Jeyne removed all of the ornaments with ladders, supervised by a grumpy Sandor. "Hurry up and if anyone gets hurt, I'll hurt you worse enough to make the hospital trip worth the trouble." Davos, Sandor, and Hodor will remove the tree soon as the kids finished stripping it. Roose had assured Tywin that he will make sure that a new Stark tree will be brought in.

With a brilliant smile, Cersei offered Sansa, Loras and Margeary up for the clean up crew. Watching Loras cringe and gag over the teeth and blood from the religious brawl was true Christmas for Cersei. Lovingly, Cersei watched Marge force herself to impassive while she knelt and brushed up shattered ornaments. Sansa waded into the full mess with an ease that comes from living in a full house, tending to trees and horse stables.

Cersei watched how Sansa tried to help the twins, who both took full advantage of it. Sighing, Cersei sipped her coffee and a voice shattered her peace. "I also enjoy watching my employees work, however they can do these tasks without you. I can't say the same. I need your graceful ass outside in front of the media. You and I shall share in this nightmare and fix it. Let's go." Cersei sniffed and glared down at Tyrion.

"I will never publicly stand smiling next to you in front of a camera. My husband is here and can speak to the public on my behalf. Just be careful he doesn't step on you, he's drunk." A voice, a stern voice of a man who's seen feast and famine. "Shame on you, daughter. You are already a shame, Tyrion. I will speak to the media myself along with Robert. You two will give your statements to the police and continue putting things in order."

Cersei smiled brilliantly at her father but her body was stiff with hateful love and grudging respect. Tyrion didn't bother and just nodded, frowning and swearing softly. Tywin furrowed his brow at Cersei. "I want you to tell Qyburn to take down the atrocity and any others he's been adding! You. Personally. Not one of your employees or one of your little spies. Hear me? You. Will. Tell. Him. Or your own store might suffer, Cersei. I mean it."

Tywin turned to point at Jamie. "And you! What the hell have you been doing? HELP YOUR BROTHER! I want a new tree, I want lovely decorations everywhere. I want it to look like that accident never happened, hear me! Gregor! Make sure that no one else is lurking around here. Where the hell is Petyr? Did he take off with his troop of harlots?" Hot Pie spoke timidly while keeping his eyes on the tree.

"Uh, Petyr was chasing Myranda but then he got a call from Mrs. Stark. Her husband just died in a car accident and she needed Petyr to get her a lawyer. He had her on speakerphone and I was getting his coffee." Hot Pie was startled when everyone turned to stare at him. Sansa grabbed his hand to pull herself off the floor. "What? What did you just say?" Arya and Rickon slid out of the behemoth tree, pale and sickly looking, haunted. "Our father isn't dead...he can't be dead." Tywin was ready to explode as he turned to his family and Gregor. "How did you miss this? How did we all miss this?"

Petyr appeared within the large candy cane garden and came forth with a look of sympathy on his face. "I am afraid it is true. Children, I am here for you. Shall I drive you to your mother? She will not leave Bran, he has slipped into a coma. Cat is speaking with a lawyer and already getting Rob and Jon ready for a war of some sort. Roose Bolton is apparently trying to comfort the widow. As Cat's best friend, I should be the one comforting her. However, as a family friend, I will sacrifice my time to care for her grieving children." 

Sansa stumbled a step forth, tears running down a face swelling with grief. "My father is dead? Please, no, not my father." Marge put her arm around the young woman but Cersei moved with the light of speed and opportunity. Sansa found herself enveloped by expensive scents, against materials her father would never let her buy. He was strict, he could be silly or generous and Sansa's task driven mind started to write his obituary. Tears soaked into Cersei's shoulder pad and the woman just gave a harder hug. "My poor little dove! I am so sorry for your loss. I am here for you, love."

Petyr looked ready to bite the elegant woman but he looked miserably towards Arya and Rickon. In spite of having been around Cat all her life, including after she was married, he never liked her children except for Sansa. Petyr saw so much of Cat's beauty in her daughter and so little of Ned. Petyr was enchanted by the little redhead all her life and when she headed for womanhood, he found himself getting increasingly interested in her. Arya was a nosy brat and Rickon was a clumsy nuisance. Rickon started to sob and Hodor comforted him.

Sniffing but refusing to let the tears fall, Arya snarled up at Petyr. "I want you to take me to him. I want to see the body! You got it wrong! I'll prove it!" Kevan noticed the marked disgust on Petyr's face and shoved him away a little. "Stay with us here, young lady, we shall take care of you until your mother can. I am very sorry for the death of your beloved father but I do believe he has gone to God. Here, sip some water and try to-" Kevan would have continued but a sandal smacked him in the forehead. He glared at the Sparrow as Arya escaped his praying mantis grip.

Arya flew past them all, well versed in escaping. She has not only been in track since middle school but Arya was known to be a good spy and a great escape artist. Dodging between Gregor's steel legs, using the tree to her advantage, running through the thick of it. This caused Sandor to get stuck in the pine, still reaching outward for the little punk girl. Arya laughed as Tyrion attempted to knock her down and she felt a little bad for pushing him away with her foot in his face. The mall police were no match and Arya slipped out just in time to hitch a ride with Bronn and Myranda.

Seeing Myranda get inside Bronn's sports car, it was ancient and it took some time to heat up, luckily for Arya. She ran over and remembered Bronn from a story he'd done on her father once. "Hey! I will give you information you can use, first to speak to a Stark after a death in the family." Squinting his eyes in suspicion, Bronn asked her to clarify. Arya started to cry to her own frustration as her voice remained steady. "My father was in a car accident. I need a ride to the scene, please. I'll tell you everything I know on the way and you can take pictures of the crash scene."


	15. Rocking Around The Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby, It's Cold Outside by Seth McFarlane & Lady Gaga  
> O Christmas Tree by Bob Rivers and Twisted Radio

Cat internally groaned as Roose slipped into Bran's room. "Have you no decency at all, Mr. Bolton? Please allow me to grief in private." Roose gave a small scoffing sound as he loomed over the back of her chair. "Mr. Bolton, is it now? I've been Roose for the past twenty years. I have had supper over your home, I have had you over my house for supper as well! We see each other every holiday party, we've danced at a few of them. Do you forget our college days? Remember when you and I did a little experimenting together? Your husband was a friend of mine. Bran was in my scouts troop for two years in a row. Please, allow me this chance to help you however I can."

Roose put his hands on her shoulders and the ice seemed to grow. Cat stood fast and began to pace, her hands folded tightly on her stomach. "Cat, I hope I can still call you that, listen, please. The Lannisters have your lot and four of your children. Cersei and Tyrion are caring for your saddened children and they have your tree lot within their power. Ned and Jory are both gone, only you to fight the Lannisters for your lot and children. Are you going to try and sue them? You'll have to beg your siblings to help you out until Ned's insurance money shows up to pay for a new lawyer."

"Petyr gave my information to a lawyer who's on his way to assist us. Robert called and offered the services of his brothers but I have declined. I will tell you what I told him. You were Ned's friend, never mine. I thank you for your help but no thank you. You are after my tree lot. Forget it. I will run it with my children. We can manage to finish the season." Roose gently cleared his throat and gave a gentle nod. "Of course. I take no offense. And I am sure that Rob and Jon can help you get through the rest of this season. But your other children have surpassed their family job. They will not return to your tree lot. They deny their inheritance and legacy. Petyr offered to drive them here and none of them accepted. Can you run the lot with only three?"

Cat's upset was as genuine as Roose's concern was fake. "Get out. Now. Don't come back. We have no business together. I will be happy to shake your hand during Ned's services. That's all." Roose gave an old fashioned bow and kissed her hand with the passion of a snake. Seconds later, Jon and Robb returned. Robb was very upset to hear his siblings reactions from Cat. Jon was more upset to see Roose. Cat and Robb were more concerned about the direct family but Jon understood how dangerous the Boltons were. Jon always thought the family was crazy to be involved with the Boltons in any way.

Roose spoke softly. "Cat, Tywin will keep you in court forever. Bran was stoned and that's in his blood. Tywin has witnesses including Arya herself. Can I please help you in some way? Shall I call your brother and sister for you? Maybe assist your boys with the details of the service? Would you like me to get Ramsay to assist me in bringing your children here? I promise that I will make sure your children understand the disrespect of not being here." Cat tightened her lips. "NO thank you. I can call my own siblings and set up my husband's service. My children are cared for, so be it for now."

Ramsay whistled O Christmas while he got Ned's best chainsaw and grinning, went into the mini forest. Heading for the largest tree in the place, Ramsay felt his bladder fill. He took out his half chub and began to sprinkle hot urine on different trees as he passed them. Once he reached the tree he wanted, he put his penis away. "Okay, let's get you down and out of here." Sandor muttered as he led Hodor, Jaime and Davos towards Ramsay. "Hey, you wanna stop fucking around? It's cold out here, Bolton. Here, give me that and I'll do it."

Ramsay hissed and yanked the chainsaw out of Sandor's reach. "Mine. Fucking neanderthal, didn't you ever learn manners? You don't try to rip something out of someone else's hands! I'm doing it or it doesn't get done. Back away so I don't flatten all of you when this beauty comes down!" Jaime looked confused while Sandor looked alarmed. "What does he mean? Doesn't that boy understand to cut it down in a way not to...OH MY GOD!" The golden man ran, followed by Davos and Sandor. Hodor stood next to Ramsay, looking mournful. This was the Stark's personal tree. Or was.

Sandor shook his fist while Jaime swore and threatened. It did no good and Ramsay finished his work. "TIMBER!" The massive pine crashed down, breaking several smaller trees and destroying the Stark's fence. "Whoops. Sorry. Okay, here's your tree! Glad I could help you." Ramsay followed the men carrying the tree back into the mall. Ramsay was crazed with worry for his boy and wanted to spread his misery among others the best he can. Ramsay entered to look around for a victim.

Bronn and Myranda sat in the front of the messy blue hatchback. Arya jumped into their backseat and wrinkled her nose as he peeled out of the mall parking lot. "Wow. Didn't take either of you for a serious stoner but I am getting gold-fished back here." Myranda furrowed her brow along with Bronn, her delicate nose wrinkled and she sneezed. "Girl is right, Bronn. I mean, I do partake but I haven't since yesterday. So it's not me." Bronn hit the brake hard on a side street. Arya heard a muffled cry of pain and announced it came from the trunk.

Hand on his gun, near his camera that he also wished to carry, Bronn went out of his car and to the trunk. Staying to the side, gun ready, Bronn opened his trunk. To find Jojen and Meera smoking a joint in his trunk. "Oh hi there. I hope you don't mind that we sort of borrowed your trunk for a bit. Cersei fired us and sent the fucking lit torch mob after us. Just hiding out until bitch is gone, until mall cops are a few miles further away. Would you mind taking us just another few miles? Peace on earth and Christmas spirit and all? Yeah, buddy? Huh?"

Bronn didn't feel a bit of guilt giving each of them a shot to the stomach with his ring hand before stealing the joint. Taking a huge drag into his lungs, Bronn held the joint between his teeth as he grabbed each of the siblings by the neck and yanked them out. Hustling them wordlessly into the back seat, Bronn was frustrated to discover Arya and Myranda giggling, having become slightly stoned by the smoke that had been wafting through the backseat.


End file.
